Prodigy
by QuillRune
Summary: "Hogwarts", I said out loud. The word was full of promise, of finally taking my place in magical society instead of hiding from it. Previously published on HPFF, but now, after some much needed updating and edits, available here!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _Elisa_

As moods go, I currently found myself in the foulest.

Shielding my eyes with one hand against the blazing sun and holding my bike with the other, I tried to estimate how long it would take me to get back to the house. If I would be able to actually ride my bike, it would probably take me 15 minutes, 20 tops. I glanced at the flat tire on the rusty looking front wheel and sighed miserably. On foot, it would take me more than double. The frown on my already scrunched up face deepened and I swore not so silently and not so under my breath. If I could just use my wand and magically repair the stupid flat …

"No," I tried to tell myself firmly, "the Ministry already sent you enough warning owls. One more illegal spell, and you'll find yourself facing the entire Wizengamot in a hearing _."_

I sighed again, possibly even deeper than the first time, and, not seeing any other option, set for the house on foot.

Making my way down the dusty road which ploughed through field after field desperate for a drop of rain, I kept an eye on the magically enlarged reusable tote dangling from the bike's handlebar. In it was a giant, with magical long-lasting fireworks equipped, cake. "Happy birthday Julie!" was the glittering message it carried.

Julie is not my name, in case you were wondering. I usually don't carry around a cake for my own birthday. Julie Hastings is my cousin, and she would turn 17 tomorrow. The lucky bint would finally be able to use magic outside school walls.

My father and I were temporarily living with her, her parents and her brother Max until we found a place of our own, and I had decided to order a cake at Merryweather's. It's the nearest magical bakery, just about two villages over from Wimbourne and the house in the Dorset countryside where the Hastings live. And in order to keep the cake a surprise, I'd taken the old rusty bike out of the barn behind the house and had gone for a ride.

Technically however, I wasn't really allowed to leave the Hastings' land, as there remained some practicalities to be settled still, regarding the problem that was my mother. All paperwork though, as I had repeatedly told myself while I nervously made my way to Merryweather's. Besides, Max should be covering for me, so I could be back before anyone (meaning darling Dad) noticed I'd left the premises of the old farm turned chic rustic house that was the Hastings' house in the first place.

That plan had, of course, had been formed without taking a possible flat into account.

"I knew I should have bloody flown there instead", I grumbled, pushing a strand of hair that'd been sticking to my slightly sweaty forehead behind my ear.

Mid-August, and according to the weather reports, the heat wave that had been raging on for the past two weeks would culminate tonight, with an enormous thunderstorm. I could feel it approaching. Not only was the air heavy with the sickly sweet smell of honeysuckle growing near the sides of the road, the atmosphere also felt too warm and clammy, I could literally feel its weight pressing down on me.

I glanced at my watch. Normal magical teenagers get one for their seventeenth birthday, but Dad gave me mine a couple of years ago. The little stars and moon around its edge told me it was almost half past 7 pm. I really needed to be home before that storm arrived, or Dad got off his shift at the hospital, so I quickened my pace, passing under a beautiful weeping willow.

And then, out of the blue, a boy jumped out of the tree.

I almost dropped my bike in surprise at any other human stupid enough to brave this pre-thunderstorm heat. Thank Merlin I didn't, because the consequences for the birthday cake would have been utterly disastrous. The boy was about my age, which is 16, maybe a few years older. Wearing a loose striped shirt, and his blonde hair sticking up in a nonchalant way. I thought I saw the corners of his mouth twitch at my unusual clumsiness, but his face grew smooth again in no time.

"I'm sorry, did I startle you?" he said in a cool voice.

"Startle me? You fucking nearly scared me to death!"

I didn't actually say that out loud, but it took a great deal of self-control not to.

Instead I narrowed my eyes at him, and replied:

"I'm not used to people randomly jumping out of thin air _,"_ trying, and of course failing, to imitate his cool tone.

"What were you doing up there?" I asked while gesturing towards the willow's thick branches above our heads.

He shrugged.

"Just some thinking."

"Right."

An awkward silence fell.

"Well, I better get going." I said, and wanted to take off again, so Socrates here could go back to contemplating the meaning of life.

I had already passed him when he opened his mouth again.

"Perhaps you need help fixing that flat tire?" he asked, his voice still cool as the stream running in the Hastings' backyard.

I stopped, interest definitely peaked. Weird Startling Muggle boy knew how to fix my bike?

"Oh, do you know how to? That'd be brilliant!"

"Of course", he said, "let me take a look".

He kneeled beside my bicycle and focused on the flat tire.

"It is just the air valve that got a bit loose", he looked up at me.

He had piercing blue eyes, and after a couple of seconds, I looked away. I suddenly wished I had taken a jacket or sweater with me. Despite the heat, I was feeling quite cold wearing only a thin summer dress and my favorite Greek looking golden sandals.

"Easily repaired."

He chuckled and focused on the tire again. Then I noticed something. He had a wand in his hand. To an ordinary Muggle, it might have looked like a small and very smooth twig, but I saw it for what it was. A wand.

"Alright", I thought, "Weird Startling Muggle Boy isn't a Muggle at all. You've got yourself a wizard fixing the stupid thing".

He pointed his wand nonchalantly at my tire, whilst pretending to fix the valve with his other hand.

"There," he said, "all fixed", whilst the tire was almost invisibly inflating itself.

"Oh, that's great, thank you so much!"

How daft of a Muggle did he think I was? Who in their right mind would just believe a tire previously flatter than medieval wizards had believed the earth to be, could possibly be fixed and completely inflated by merely tightening the air valve?

I wished I could wipe that smug look off of his face and tell him that I was a witch myself, perfectly able to magically inflate tires had it not been for the Track, but of course I couldn't go about telling random strangers who I was. It would only draw unnecessary attention to my Dad and me, which was about the last thing we needed. Thus, I pretended to be the very grateful and completely clueless Muggle he obviously thought I was. I honestly was grateful, though. He'd saved me a probably very unpleasant walk through a surely very unpleasant storm.

"Thank you, really. I would have had to walk about another mile or three if it weren't for you," I said in a more genuine tone.

"It's a good thing you don't have to, with this storm coming."

"Yes, I best hurry, or I might still be in it," I said, plastering a polite smile on my face.

"Well, good-bye then"

"Bye, and thanks again".

I hopped on my bike and headed for the Hastings', resisting the urge to look back at the boy, who, despite the misplaced smugness, had been leaning towards very fucking handsome.

 _Julie_

23h59.

In exactly one minute, Julie Hastings would be an adult. In exactly one minute, the world of unlimited magic would open its firmly locked to minors' doors.

Julie was sitting cross-legged on her immaculately made bed, listening to the heavy raindrops and occasional booming thunder, and staring at the vintage clock on the opposite wall. Her 12 inch hawthorn wand was in her hand, ready to perform, even though she wasn't sure with which spell she would inaugurate her newly acquired magical freedom. Julie was contemplating using her first official spell out of school to record the vocals to the new song her best friend Daniel had written, when she heard two short knocks on her bedroom door.

She pulled the elastic from her ponytail, and then draped her now loose wavy blonde hair over her left shoulder before calling:

"Come in".

The door opened, just as the clock sprang to midnight, and two people stepped into her room, both grinning broadly. Her younger brother Max and her ridiculously long-legged cousin Elisa, with a truly enormous cake in between them.

"Surprise", they whispered simultaneously.

Julie couldn't help but smile toothily. Elisa and Max started whisper-singing Happy Birthday, but Julie elegantly jumped up and threw her arms around the pair of them before they could finish.

"Urghhh, leggo!" Max whispered, trying to wrestle his way out of his sister's surprisingly strong embrace.

"Thank you thank you thank you" Julie said, hugging her surprise visitors even tighter.

"Candles. Your hair." Elisa was able to blurt out while trying to free herself as well.

Julie let go of her family quickly, going through her blonde locks with her fingers. Satisfied to see that it was still full, wavy and beautiful, she took a step back to take a good look at the cake.

"Merryweather's Magical Mouth-watering Macaroon-cake at midnight" Elisa grinned, "what do you think?"

"A lot of M's there," Julie laughed, "but it looks positively delicious."

"Let's dig in then!" Max said impatiently.

"How did you manage to get hold of it?" Julie asked after blowing out the candles, "with your indefinite house-arrest", she gestured towards her cousin with a perfectly manicured index finger "and you being… you", she gestured towards her brother.

"Oi, I'll have you …" Max started loudly, but Elisa quickly silenced him.

"Shhhh, mind the parents! _"_ she whispered while putting a finger to her lips.

"Even though I'm quite certain they can't hear us over this humongous storm, we better not underestimate Dad."

She then turned to Julie.

"I understand your concern regarding Max's mental capacities and other obvious shortcomings, but I'm not grounded. I'm just…" but Elisa did not know how else to put not being allowed to leave the house under any circumstances.

"Being held home for safe-keeping?" Max offered helpfully despite the girls' previous teasing, while eagerly cutting the cake.

"Yes, being held home for safekeeping. I like that. But to answer your question, I took your rusty excuse of a bike to Merryweather's and Max rather successfully covered for me, it would seem."

"Hmm, simple but efficient," Julie nodded approvingly while scraping a bit of icing off of the generous piece Max had just handed her.

She licked it off her finger before continuing.

"Which reminds me E…" she grinned at Elisa and then graciously got up to fetch something that was lying on her desk.

She tossed it at her cousin, and Elisa effortlessly caught it. Max nodded approvingly at his cousin's usual almost superhuman reflexes. Elisa ignored him and looked at the tiny object that was now in her hand. A crystal phial, and in it a single long and wavy blonde hair.

"It's Isa's. You remember her, my cousin from my father's side of the family? She visited last Christmas, but now she's back in Oklahoma, so she obviously can't make it to celebrate my birthday tomorrow. But with this," Julie nodded at the phial "and a little help of your father's inexhaustible supply of Polyjuice Potion, you can…"

"Seriously, how can one Muggle-man own that much Polyjuice Potion," Max side-commented.

Elisa looked away from the vial and up at her cousin.

"Max will cover for you," Julie continued, "he's had his practice today."

"Today it was period cramps, but tomorrow, you are going to have a very serious case of unreasonable teenage dramaqueen-itis, which unfortunately includes not wanting to see anyone, especially your Dad," Max chimed in again, with a very serious and very fake look on his face.

"Even though he'll probably have to work late again, so he won't notice you're gone during the day anyway," he continued in a more genuine tone.

"So you and I, my dearest Elisabeth, can go on a shopping spree and meet up with my other friends in London to celebrate my freshly acquired adulthood."

"Simple," Elisa said, while balling her right hand into a fist and reaching out to Julie.

"but efficient," Julie completed, while bumping her own fist to Elisa's.

 _Elisa_

Most people find storms frightening, but I never really understood why.

I like how they wash away the old, how you can almost smell the freshness of the new the morning after. Tonight's storm would be no different. Lying in bed with my eyes closed, I could picture its force cleansing the roads of all dust and dirt, and washing away the heat and dullness of the past few weeks.

I had been stuck in the Hastings' house far too long, its walls were starting to close in on me.

So naturally, I was looking forward to going to London with Jules tomorrow. The plan was to go shopping in the Muggle part of the city first, then pass through the Leaky Cauldron to get to Diagon Alley and meet up with some of Julie's Hogwarts friends. All under the pretense of being Isabelle Hastings of course.

Doing all of this behind my father's back, however, made me slightly nervous.

He had sacrificed practically everything for me. His friends, his job, his home,... All but his sister Victoria, which is aunt Tori to me, and Mum to Julie and Max.

All that however, was finally about to change. For both of us. And hopefully for good.

After the Ministry finally arrested my psychopathic mother last June, my Dad and I have been taking our lives back, step by step. First, we sold the house in Northern France we've been living, or should I say hiding, in since I was about one and a half years old. We temporarily moved in with the Hastings, until we find a new home in England for ourselves.

Then, Dad got his old job back as a surgeon in the Muggle hospital of Charing Cross, even though his old colleagues and friends don't recognize him, due to the powerful memory blocks the Department of Mystification performed on them over 14 years ago. And in September, after being home-schooled by a Ministry of Magic appointed teacher named Monsieur Meunier for the past 5 years, I would finally start at Hogwarts.

"Hogwarts", I said out loud. The word was full of promise, of finally taking my place in magical society instead of hiding from it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _Julie_

"Ah, the joys of a Muggle credit card linked to Gringott's," Julie sighed to Elisa.

The cousins had just exited Urban Outfitters, with about 4 overly full bags each.

"I do hope I guessed my actual size right," Elisa replied, looking at her temporary complexion in the store's window.

Instead of her usual tall and curly brown-headed self, a tan, petite blonde was looking back at her.

"You should try to get Izzy's accent right," Julie said excitedly, "give me your best Okie twang!"

"Why, I ain't givin' you nuttin, Missy", Elisa played along, stamping her foot to emphasize 'nuttin''.

Laughter erupting, Julie shook her blonde locks in disbelief.

"Brilliant! You only need a pair of hillbilly boots to complete the picture! Daniel is going to have a fit when he lays eyes on you. Too much country for that city boy, as Matt would put it."

Daniel and Matteo. Julie felt something flutter in her stomach, when saying the boys' names. She hadn't seen either of them since the beginning of summer.

As much as she'd enjoyed her cousin's stay at her house, Elisa's presence did bring along certain safety hazards. There currently was a strict no-visitors rule in place at the Hastings', ordered directly by the Ministry. That unfortunately also included not seeing her friends, so Julie'd told them she'd spent the holidays with her relatives in the States.

All of a sudden, Julie could not wait to get to Diagon Alley.

"Take my hand, E. The Leaky Cauldron is our next stop."

"Sure thang, Ma'am.", Elisa grinned at her cousin, right before taking a firm hold of Julie's hand.

Julie closed her eyes, then squeezed them shut in concentration. Two seconds later, both girls had vanished into thin air, the loud bang that accompanies Disapparating lost in the endless honking and screeching tires of London traffic.

Elisa

Jules was looking at me questioningly, I could feel her eyes scanning my face.

"How long has it been since you last came here?"

We were standing just outside the Leaky Cauldron, overly full and smelly trashcans left and right of us, facing a very uneven brick wall.

"5 years," I replied slowly, "your Mum took me to Ollivander's to buy a wand."

It had been one out of three or four rare but necessary visits to the Wizarding world, and aunt Tori and me had both been on Polyjuice Potion. I smiled at the memory of holding my wand for the first time, of it choosing me.

"Right. Your father was a nervous wreck that day. His eyes never left the fireplace, and I'm quite certain he wore the carpet in the living room out with his pacing." Jules smiled lightly.

"Ready to return to society?" she added questioningly.

I looked up and down the brick wall one last time, and then turned to my cousin, who was nodding reassuringly. I grinned at her.

"Bring it," I said with what I hoped was a determined voice.

Julie nodded again, this time in appreciation, and then tapped a series of bricks with her wand. The bricks started to wriggle, and soon formed an archway. Jules looped her arm through mine, and we stepped forward, onto Diagon Alley.

It was exactly as I remembered. Wizards carrying large brown-packaged parcels, witches huddling together, comparing their many magical purchases to each other's', children pulling their parents by the sleeve, getting them to look at the newest model of broomstick.

It was contagious, this gorgeous magical hustle was. I breathed in deeply, immediately regretting it after a foul stench that was coming from the apothecary filled my nostrils. I coughed, and Julie laughed at me.

"Where to first, newbie?" she said mockingly, while bumping my side with one of her many Urban Outfitters bags.

I thought for a minute, and then remembered the ridiculously delicious ice-cream aunt Tori had bought me when I was eleven, congratulating me with my wand. I had been disguised as a plump little freckled redhead at the time, aunt T as my even plumper mother. She had said that we might as well play the part, and had promptly ordered us three humongous scoops each.

"The ice-cream parlor," I said.

Julie didn't reply immediately, and a little crease in between her eyebrows appeared, as if she was deliberating.

"C'mon, my treat…" I added, dragging out the 'e' in treat.

Julie curtseyed, and then said:

"First stop, Florean Fortescue's".

We spent the rest of the afternoon strolling through Diagon Alley, trying on robes in Madame Malkin's, buying threats for Apollo, Julie's and Max's owl, and admiring the new Thunderbolt.

At first, I felt slightly guilty for sneaking out on Dad the way I had, but that feeling died away as soon as we entered Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Julie gave me what she called 'a Complete Tour of Magical Prank-Pulling'. From the classics like Nosebleed Nougat and Puking Pastilles, to the newer merchandise like Unibrow Unicorns and Beard Bites, I loved every single bit of it. The small whisper of guilt in the back of my head disappeared, for I could not believe Dad had kept all of this from me.

Somewhere around 6 o'clock in the afternoon, Jules told me to "get my Okie on", which was her way of saying it was time to meet her friends. She led the way, until we stood in front of a bar or café of some sort. The sign read 'The Fourth Broomstick'.

"The original Broomsticks is in Hogsmeade, but old Rosmerta finally opened a second establishment," J said while pushing the door open.

I followed, stepping into a room filled with wooden tables and mismatching chairs. The ceiling was low, and had several kinds of dried herbs hanging from it. Music was playing in the background, but I couldn't make out which song was playing, as a combination of loud voices and laughter was coming from the other pub goers, in particular from a large group of middle-aged witches wearing matching violet robes.

"What time were we supposed to meet them?" I asked Julie while she took a seat at a round table by the window. I sat down across from her, shoving all of my shopping bags under the table.

"At about 18h30," she replied, glancing at the brand-new wizarding watch her parents had given her, according to tradition, for her birthday.

When Julie says 'about 18h30', you better be there no second later than half past 6. I should know, because I'm always late, annoying the hell out of her. She's always at least 10 minutes early wherever she goes, and today was no exception.

"Fancy a drink?", I asked while getting up.

Jules nodded and smiled briefly at me, then looked down at her watch again.

I walked over to the bar where a blonde witch was chewing Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. She looked rather bored, popping an enormous blue bubble as I ordered two Butterbeers. I thanked her politely when she set the drinks down, but she ignored me and went back to studying her nails.

"Thanks, darling," Julie said as I handed her a Butterbeer.

I rolled my eyes at her, because she knew perfectly well I can't stand nicknames. Darling, dear, love, baby or honey bunny bumble-bee, they all make me want to puke my guts out. I have a name, and people might as well use it. Especially since I finally escaped the world of rather questionably aliases.

"You're welcome, cherry-pie," I teased back.

I wasn't sure she'd heard me, because the door had just opened, and two boys had walked in. Julie rose and graciously waved at them.

When they spotted her, they both grinned broadly, and the tallest one quickly zigzagged in between the tables and chairs, practically running towards Jules.

"If it isn't the birthday girl", he exclaimed, right before lifting her off of her feet and, to my surprise, kissing her full on the mouth.

Julie smiled against his lips, but then pulled away.

"Matt," she simply said, looking up at him. He was ridiculously good-looking, with his hazel eyes and olive-colored skin.

"Way to go Jules", I thought, whilst eyeing the pair of them up and down. This couple looked like full blown demi-gods together.

"Well hello Hastings," the second boy who had reached our table by now said, "I see you have missed me _terribly_ …" he said sarcastically, but then grinned again.

Julie finally looked away from her Matt, then walked around the table. She threw her arms around the second boy, who had sandy hair, light eyes and a heart-shaped face.

"You know I have, Danny", squeezing him tightly before releasing him from her embrace.

"Boys," she then said, "meet my cousin from across the Atlantic, Isabelle. Izzy, meet Matteo and Daniel."

"How are y'all?" I said, according to character, and waved at the boys.

"Thirsty," Matt replied with a quick smile, and he started towards the bar, where the blonde bubble-blowing witch had shaken off her bored face all of a sudden, now looking very lively, batting her eyelashes at Julie's approaching boyfriend.

"Merlin, do I hate Celestina Warbeck," Daniel said, sitting down next to me with a sigh.

The loud group of middle-aged witches had left, and it had quieted down a bit. 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love' was unmistakably playing.

"About time someone discovers us, Jules. Speaking of which, did you record the vocals to the last song I wrote? And did you like the chorus? Influenced by The XX Muggles, you know." Dan babbled.

He and Julie engaged in a conversation I soon was lost in, so I looked back at the bar to see what was taking Matt so long, and my jaw dropped.

What were the odds? What were the fucking odds?

Matt was still standing by the bar, but all of his easy-going nonchalance had left his body. One of his hands was by his side, balled into a fist, the other was clenching his wand. He was facing two boys and a girl, his face in a weird grimace. By the looks of it, two parts anger, one part disgust. The girl was pretty and dark-headed, but with a mean tweak around her full lips. One of the boys, blonde and muscular in a good-looking way, said something to Matt, and the girl let out a hateful sounding giggle. The second boy looked like a younger version of the first, and happened to be the one and only repairer of my fucking flat last night. Bleeding striped shirt and all.

"Daniel, Julie," I said loudly, keeping my eyes on the weird looking little group at the bar.

They both looked up at the urgent tone in my voice, and almost immediately jumped up once they had followed my gaze. By now, all four of them had their wands out, and the blonde bartender was looking from one to another, her eyes wide open in fear.

"Oi!" Daniel shouted, sprinting to his friend's side and drawing his own wand.

Julie and I quickly followed, taking Matt's left side.

"Oh, hello Hastings," the girl said in a voice with a profoundly nasal tone to it.

"We were just asking your significant other here, what the count is."

"The count?" I asked, eyeing the girl.

"Why yes, little midget," she said, turning to me, "how many filthy Muggles has Princess Hastings opened her nasty blood-traitor legs for this summer?"

On that note, Matt and I lost it.

Perhaps now is a good time to mention that, besides my extensive training in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Potions, I also happen to have a black belt in Muggle-karate. Even with a small body like Isabelle's, I'm considerably lethal.

Before the nasty dark-headed girl could even think about conjuring a protective shield, I threw myself at her and had her twisted around defenselessly in no time, her arms behind her back, her cheek smashed against the greasy surface of the bar.

"Say that again and I'll break your fucking arm", I hissed in her ear.

Matt had moved less fast, and had been blocked by the biggest of the blonde guys, who shoved him, hard enough for Matt to land backwards on one of the little tables, which squeaked dangerously under his weight. The witch behind the bar was screaming now, but nobody paid her the slightest bit of attention, for Dan, Jules and Tire-Boy had all of a sudden remembered they were wizards and had started putting their wands to use.

Merlin, how had everything gotten out of hand so quickly? I couldn't even last one day in magical society without getting in a full-blown bar fight, of all fucking things.

I had no idea who fired the first curse, but all of a sudden, sparks literally started flying, lighting up the entire Fourth Broomstick. I turned my attention back to the girl I had pinned to the bar, for she was trying to wriggle her way out from under me. I couldn't use magic to Stupefy the stupid girl, but I couldn't very well knock her out with my fists either, could I?

Luckily, Jules saw me struggling, and pointed her wand at the girl. With a swift "Petrificus Totalus", she turned to stone in my hands.

Julie winked at me before turning back to try to save Matt from losing one of his perfectly white teeth, as his face was currently being used as a living boxing ball. The guy that was pounding down on him however, saw her coming. He grinned while he pointed a short and bulky looking wand at my cousin, and then he hit her with a silent incantation.

Julie, gasping for air, stumbled back a few steps while clawing desperately at her midriff, where the spell had hit her. Then, without further warning, her knees buckled under her, and she fell to the floor, where she remained motionless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 _Alex_

Alex knew better than to go places with both his girlfriend and his brother. Somehow, it seemed, Marissa and Liam always succeeded in bringing out the worst in each other.

And yet, he had accompanied them to London anyway. It had gone reasonably well, Marissa had thrown one of her notorious fits because Alex wouldn't buy her a silver Pygmy Puff, Liam had disappeared into Knockturn Alley for a couple of hours, reappearing with a rather suspicious looking bulge in his left jacket pocket, and Alex had ordered all the required textbooks for his seventh and last year at Hogwarts. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until Liam had decided he needed a drink, and they had all gone to The Fourth Broomstick for Firewhiskeys.

Pure chaos ensued.

Sure, Alex had gotten into fights before. Especially for trying to wipe off smug grins of even smugger looking Gryffindor's faces. But this afternoon had been different.

By blasting Arachne's Curse, Alex' brother had crossed an invisible line. The line between harmless wand work with easy counter-curses, and illegally invented incantations. The line between excusable teenage escapades, and unforgivable Dark Magic.

And all Liam had done when Hastings had fallen to the floor, was laughed like a mad man. Alex would not have believed that horrible cackling noise was coming from his brother's lips, if he hadn't watched the petite blonde that had been with the Gryffindors silence Liam with her fist.

She'd punched him right in the nose, moving with incredible speed, before turning back to and kneeling by the motionless figure that was Julie Hastings.

Alex had thought of the girl as immensely strong. Her little fist had sent his brother flying when connecting with his face, and he wouldn't be surprised in the slightest, if she had managed to break Liam's nose. He had also thought this a good moment to leave the scene.

Alex had backed up in the direction of the door, unfreezing Marissa and grabbing Liam by his elbow in the process.

"Let's go!", he'd yelled.

Marissa, for once, had obeyed immediately, but Liam had tried to resist, clasping his nose between his hands, eyeing the girl by Hastings's side with a down-right evil look on his face.

"Liam, let's fucking leave!", Alex had hissed at his brother, tightening his grip on Liam's arm, and dragging him out the door.

Marissa had followed quickly. She'd grabbed his shirt, and with a loud bang, the three of them had Disapparated into the night.

 _Elisa_

"Found anything yet?" Daniel shouted from downstairs.

"Do you think we'd still be up here if we had?" Matt yelled back heatedly, while tossing a voluminous leather-bound book titled Curious Cases of Contagious Incantations over his shoulder.

With a thud, it landed on the deep burgundy carpet that covered the entire floor of the Aragons' luxurious library. Matt's mother, who happened to be one of St. Mungo's most celebrated healers, was the proud owner of a seemingly endless collection of books on magical maladies. It had been Dan's idea to come here.

"What about this?" I asked Matt while tapping a caption in the book I had been browsing through.

He walked over to where I was sitting, squatted down and leaned across my shoulder to read for himself.

"Acromantula Bite", he spoke out loud.

"Highly poisonous, highly lethal. Symptoms: immediate loss of consciousness, veins circumventing the bite pulse and eventually turn black, uncontrollable movement of limbs and screams indicate final phase.

"What do you think they mean by final phase?" I asked, my voice noticeably quivering with concern on the last two words.

"Doesn't matter, does it? No spider, just a very nasty curse." Matt said firmly.

I had a feeling he was trying to convince himself, too.

"Keep looking", he added.

"Matt, if we can't get her better in the next ten minutes, we're going to St. Mungo's." I couldn't care less if your mummy found out, I added silently.

He looked up, about to answer me, but then was distracted by the sudden burst of angry shouts coming from downstairs.

"What the bleeding fuck are you doing here?" we heard Daniel roar.

I scrambled to my feet, and followed Matt into the hallway, where we both ran down the stairs two steps at a time.

"Chill out, Danny-boy, I'm here to help" a cool and calculated voice answered.

"We don't want anything from you, Greengrass, let alone help." Matt, who had reached the front door by which Dan was standing, fired at the visitor.

"Oh really? Tell me Spaniard, how's dearest Julie? Her veins turning black yet?" the voice, seemingly bored, said.

Finally reaching the front door as well, I could now see for myself to whom the voice belonged. I should've known. Tire-Boy.

"What do you know?" I asked briskly, lightly pushing Matt aside.

"The counter-curse, of course." Tire-Boy said, now eyeing me.

"Why help us?" Matt asked.

"And where are Liam and Marissa?" Dan added.

"One, because I don't fancy the weight of Hastings's death on my conscience. Two, obviously not here. Now, does that conclude your little interrogation, or are we just going to stand here, and wait for Hastings to die?"

That convinced me, and apparently Matt felt the same way.

"This way" he said, while beckoning Tire-Boy to follow him to the living room.

 _Alex_

"Where the fuck is she?" Alex mumbled out loud, as he stepped onto the pavement outside St. Mungo's.

He was relatively glad Julie Hastings's friends had not taken her to the magical hospital, as it meant no official investigation by the Ministry. Yet. Unfortunately, it also meant it would be harder for him to find her and perform the life-saving counter-curse.

As he started pacing up and down the horribly depressing windows of the store hiding St. Mungo's from Muggle eyes, Alex tried to think. He had absolutely no idea where Julie herself lived, but somehow he doubted Hastings's friends would take her lifeless body to her parents' house. No, the obnoxious little twats would try to find a way to cure their cursed friend themselves. Hollister's house was not an option, because the Gryffindors would have to deal with the prying eyes of Daniel's Muggle family. That only left two possibilities. The petite blonde's house, in which case Hastings was lost, for he had no idea who she was, let alone where she lived, or the Aragons' mansion, which he incidentally had been to before.

Alex breathed out, slowly letting the air escape between his lips.

"The mansion it is, then", he said before Disapparating with a loud crack.

 _Elisa_

"Oh, Merlin, her veins", Matt whispered upon entering the living room.

Julie was lying with her eyes closed on the luxurious leather couch, her head resting on a pillow, breathing evenly. It might have looked like she was asleep, were it not for the disturbingly black, almost visibly pulsating, veins that were on her hands, underarms, neck and face, and any other piece of bare skin.

"Fix her," I aggressively turned to Tire-Boy, my voice resonating the panic that was raging through my body.

"You fix her, or I swear I will-"

I never got to tell him how I would curse him into oblivion, for piercing high-pitched screams suddenly filled Matteo's enormous living room. They were coming from Julie. Of course they were. Her eyes had flown open, bulging dangerously from her skull, and she was now sitting up straight. Then, just as the textbook upstairs had described, her limbs started moving uncontrollably, her arms and legs kicking and hitting around wildly.

"Hold her still!" Tire-Boy shouted over Julie's screams, while he sprinted towards her.

"Hurry, before it's too late!"

Dan, Matt and me immediately obeyed, running towards the couch as well. Dan went for Julie's legs, and only just prevented her from kicking aside the glass (crystal?) coffee table. Matt had to endure a punch in the ribs before he succeeded in grasping both of J's wrists. I bit my lip to keep from crying, and tried to cradle my cousin's head as best as I could, preventing her from head-butting her boyfriend.

"Greengrass, hurry the fuck up!", Dan panted, obviously struggling to keep control of Julie's legs.

"On the count of three!" was the stranger's response.

"One!"

You would think Julie would tire quickly, but her movements only became wilder and more desperate.

"Two!"

Julie's left leg escaped Dan's grip for a moment, and he only just dodged a kick to his nose before regaining control.

"Three!"

Please, please, please, fix her. I silently begged of Tire-Boy. Please. I looked up, and met his cold blue-eyed gaze for a split second.

" _Athena dimitte_!"

A flash of blinding white light, then Julie went limb in my hands, her head lolling over the armrest of the couch. Tentatively, I let go of her, as did Dan, but Matt's hands remained on Julie's.

"Those should completely fade after a couple of minutes", our mysterious helper said, gesturing towards the veins on Julie's hands that Matt was now softly tracing with his thumb.

"She'll regain consciousness soon after."

"I should get going," he added, lowering his wand and turning around to leave.

"Alex." Matt said, finally tearing his gaze away from Julie.

"Yes?" our helper, whose name was thus Alex, said while stopping in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to Matt.

"Thank you," Matt said in a clear voice.

Alex merely nodded, then left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 _Julie_

The light. It was too bright.

Julie clenched her eyes shut again to shield them from it. Trusting her other senses, she became aware of several other people surrounding her. They let out sighs, as in relief.

"Merlin, am I glad to see your eyes again.", a voice said.

Julie smiled upon realizing it was Matteo's, despite the throbbing headache. Headache?

"Is this a hangover?", she said with a voice as dry as cardboard.

Panic rose within her as she tried to remember. Something, anything, which could explain why she felt so dreadful. Julie did not get hangovers. Too much alcohol meant too little control.

"Please tell me it's not", she pleaded in a small voice.

"You don't remember?" another voice asked.

Isabelle? Julie was compelled to open her eyes now.

"Oh, Izzy!" she exclaimed, when laying eyes on her cousin from across the Atlantic.

"When did you get highlights? I mean lowlights, I mean your hair is slightly darker, not quite blonde. Brown maybe?" she babbled.

Julie stopped dead in her tracks. She did not babble. That was not her. Never babble.

"What happened to me?" she asked softly.

This time, Dan answered.

"You got cursed, Jules. By-"

"Liam Greengrass", Julie finished herself, as it suddenly all came rushing back to her.

Elisa, the Fourth Broomstick, the boys, the Greengrasses and bleeding Marissa Nott. How everything escalated in absolute record time.

Shit.

Julie suddenly sat up straight, ignoring the dizziness which accompanied the sudden movement, and looked at Isabelle, whose hair had indeed turned remarkably darker.

 _Elisa_

"Isabelle, we need to leave. Now." Jules said, with unusual emphasis and urgency.

"Your lowlights look terrible", she added darkly.

And suddenly it dawned on me. I hadn't taken a swig from the small flask in my purse for a while. For an hour, to be precise. The Polyjuice Potion was wearing out.

"Julie, stay for a while. I don't think it's-"

"No time, Matt.', Julie interrupted her boyfriend while swinging her legs over the edge of the leather couch.

"Mum told me to be home on time, and I do believe we're terribly late already".

An excuse she made up on the spot.

"We'll go with you", Dan offered while standing up.

"Sorry, family-only dinner" I said apologetically, pulling Jules up by her hands.

She didn't let go after she was standing up. Partly because she was still shaky, partly so she could drag me to the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of green powder from a golden lidless box that was sitting on top of the intricate mantelpiece, and gestured for me to do the same.

"I'll go first", I told her, as I could feel my hair growing shorter, and my legs growing longer by the second.

I stepped into the Aragon's truly magnificent fireplace, and clearly stated my destination. Throwing up the powder, green flames engulfed me. I was more than grateful the world started spinning around me, as it meant I was Flooing the hell out of there.

 _Elisa_

"Who are they?"

The question had been burning on my lips ever since first I, then Julie had stumbled out of the fireplace onto the worn out carpet in the Hastings' living room last night. Unfortunately, the right moment to find out the answer hadn't presented itself yet, since my cousin and I hadn't been able to spend two minutes alone.

Brushing off the ash of our clothes after Flooing, (which, I might add, happened in silence because Julie had been a bit dizzy still, and I had quite frankly been too stunned at what we apparently got away with to utter a sensible word), we'd heard someone stumble into the house through the back door in the kitchen.

"Julie, Max! You too Elisa!", we had heard Aunt Tori call not a second later, "come help me carry these groceries in!"

What had followed was a night filled with food, presents, and other birthday celebrations. As Max had predicted, Dad had only come home from work halfway through dessert. He had carried in a wrapped gift, and after profusely apologizing for being late, had handed it over to Julie. She'd neatly removed the emerald wrappers, revealing a book titled "F. Scott Fitzgerald: the Complete Collection". As I'd watched Jules kiss Dad on his cheek to thank him, my heart had swelled at the sight of my Muggle father's literature loving face, beaming at his only niece, and guilt for weaseling out on him earlier that day had resurfaced once more.

After dinner, Julie had appeared to be so tired, I'd decided to suppress the burning desire of finding answers to the question of Tire-Boy and his shifty companions' identities, and leave her to recover from the day's events.

However, by the time I had gotten out of the shower after my daily exercise routine the following morning, Julie had been nowhere to be found. I had gone up to Max's room, and he'd informed me she would be gone all day, since she had accompanied Aunt Tori to work to see whether a career at the Ministry of Magic was something she wanted to pursue after her seventh year at Hogwarts.

I'd hung out with Max for most of the day, but there's only so much a 16-year-old nerd can have in common with her 13-year-old-growing-into-a-full-blown-jock cousin. So after playing one-on-one Quidditch in the now crisp August air for a while, I'd went upstairs to my room to dig up my own copy of Mr Fitz's Complete Collection.

It was not until early in the evening and halfway through "This Side of Paradise" that I'd finally heard light footsteps coming up the stairs, followed by a soft knock on my door.

"Jules!" I'd jumped up from my bed, throwing open my door.

"Elisa", she had said with a smile on her lips while entering and sitting down graciously on my unmade bed.

"Who, in the name of Merlin's sketchiest underwear, are they?" I was finally able to ask while closing the door behind her and plopping down next to her.

She cocked her head slightly before answering, but then said: "Liam and Alexander Greengrass, and bleeding Marissa Nott".

"And?" I added impatiently.

"And, Alexander used to be Matt's best friend."

 _Julie_

"The Greengrasses and the Aragons more or less find themselves in the same social circle. Not only are both families wealthy beyond measure, they also are as pure-blood as can be." Julie started her tale.

"Naturally, in a world of upper-class charity balls and boring adult banquets, Matt and Alex found in each other the ultimate play mate. Boys of the same age, both with a cunning ability of not getting caught whilst causing every kind of mischief you can possibly think of, and more importantly, their parents approved. Even after the Sorting Hat placed Matt in Gryffindor and proclaimed Alex a Slytherin, their friendship endured."

Julie paused, and turned her gaze to the window, where a Garden Gnome had just hoisted himself up the windowsill, and was now panting from the heavy effort it had demanded of him.

"Up until somewhere into second year, that is", she continued.

"Right before Christmas, their fathers got into a major argument. It was all over the Daily Prophet. 'Patres Familias Of Britain's Most Prominent Wizarding Families At War' and all that. After Christmas break, Alex told Matt he wasn't allowed to hang with blood traitors like the Aragons, and that he didn't want to consort with Matt anymore, even if his father had not explicitly forbidden it. They never spoke a friendly word to each other since."

"Merlin" Elisa said, thinking about two little boys crawling under fancy dinner tables, tying people's shoelaces together.

One of them was wearing a striped bow-tie in her imagination. Elisa shrugged the image off, and then asked: "what was the argument about then?"

"Blood-status of course" Julie replied.

"You see, even though the Aragons' pure bloodline dates back far into Middle Aged Spain, they couldn't care less about blood-status. Whereas it means everything to the Greengrasses."

"And how did they go from being best friends, to not speaking, to trying to curse each other's girlfriends into oblivion?" E asked, incredulously shaking her shoulder-length hair.

Julie shrugged. "Just sort of happened, I suppose. It's always worse when Liam and Marissa Nott are around though."

She smiled then. "A matter of a notorious thin line, really."

Elisa raised an eyebrow. "Please, do not finish that sentence."

She did anyway, laughing at her cousin's hatred for stereotypes and clichés, as it was nearly as big as her hatred for lovebirds calling their significant others anything but each other's names.

"A thin line between love and hate."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _Elisa_

4.26 am, the alarm clock on my bedside table read. I sighed heavily, and turned around in my bed for what felt like the gazillionth time that night.

Tonight, August had finally ended, September had come. And with the ninth month, so had my first day at Hogwarts. Attending school and spending all year with magical peers from all over the country, not being able to hide behind Polyjuice Potion. The reality of it all had set in, and it terrified me to death.

What if I don't fit in, and everyone thinks I'm a spoilt, home-schooled brat? Or what if the level of the French equivalent of O.W.L.s is much lower than in Britain, and I fail all my classes? What if the professors are as evil as Max claims them to be? Oh no, or what if the bleeding prophecy contains some truth after all? Worse still, what if my mother manages to break out and finds me?

This maelstrom of questions in my head had kept me from sleep all night, and after trying to will myself to sleep once more, I gave up. Kicking off the covers, I quietly got up to go get some pumpkin juice in the kitchen downstairs.

Coming down the stairs, I noticed I wasn't the only one still awake.

"Hi Dad," I said walking over to the kitchen table and taking a seat next to him.

"Why are you still up?"

"Night shift at the hospital", he answered with a tired voice, passing me his glass of juice.

I nodded in understanding, then took a swig, enjoying the deliciously sweet orange liquid.

"What about you, love?" he asked, eyeing me.

"Can't sleep?"

Dad is the only person in the whole wide world I let call me anything other than my name. I set the glass down, thinking of my response for a while.

"I'm… not entirely sure going to Hogwarts is a good idea."

"Nonsense, it's all you've talked about since June! In fact, it's all you've ever wanted!"

"Dad, she could find me" I almost whispered, trying to keep the stress I felt in every fiber of my body out of my voice.

I obviously failed, because Dad grasped my left hand and squeezed it softly.

"Elisabeth, your mother is locked away now, she can't hurt us anymore. She can't hurt anyone anymore. You are going to have a great year. Extraordinary normal, I dare say", he winked.

"Are you certain?" I said in a small voice.

"Positive. If not, you write me, and I'll get Tori to pick you up within an hour. I will even drag old Monsieur Meunier to Britain if you want me to."

The corners of my mouth twitched slightly upwards at the thought of the unnaturally chauvinistic French Ministry appointed teacher, trying to survive in any other place than France.

"Now go to bed, darling. Still a couple of hours to catch some sleep."

"Thanks Dad," I said, pecking him on the cheek before heading for the stairs again.

"You'll do great, Elisa. You always do." he called after me and I couldn't help but smile.

I stepped onto Platform 9 and ¾ at exactly 10h30, courtesy to Julie's infallible punctuality. The steam coming from the already hooting Hogwarts Express engine temporarily clouded my vision, but when it cleared up a bit, last night's stage-fright came rushing back in less than a nano-second. The platform was absolutely packed with students milling about. Trying to calm their owls or cats, talking to friends they had probably made during their first year already, levitating their enormous suitcases on the train, kissing their perfectly sane mothers goodbye, …

"Elisa, move!"

Julie's cry snapped me out of the upcoming panic attack, just in time to avert colliding with Max and his luggage cart, as he came running through the brick wall that hid the platform from Muggle eyes.

"Alright, E?" he said, with an encouraging smile.

I slowly blew out breath I didn't know I was holding, then nodded firmly, tentatively returning his smile.

"See you later, yeah?" he said, quickly squeezing my elbow before heading off to join a group of gangly looking boys, trooping together around what appeared to be a vintage Nimbus broomstick.

After that, I just followed Julie around. Navigating our way between the steadily growing groups of students and families on the platform, levitating our suitcases through the narrow hallway of the Express, finding an empty compartment at the rear end of the train.

Around noon, well after the train had left London's King Cross, a foul smell came creeping through the closed door. Not long after, first Matteo and then Daniel joined us, the latter quickly shutting the door after stepping into our compartment. Just as well, because the terrible stench coming from the hallway about tripled in the mere seconds the boys needed to open and close the door after them.

"Nothing better than a nice load of Dungbombs to start off our last year with," Matt sighed before happily plopping down next to Julie and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"You'd think those Huffs would've learned not to accept any gifts from us by now" Dan grinned before sitting down next to me.

Julie shook her head and wrinkled her nose, not entirely in disapproval however, before gesturing towards me.

"Boys, meet my cousin, Elisa Thompson", and both their attention promptly shifted towards me.

Going through introductions, again I might add, a certain thrill filled my body at using my own accent and, more importantly, at using my own name outside my family for the first time since, well, ever.

"So how come you're only now starting at Hogwarts then?" Daniel asked the obvious question.

"Home-schooled in Northern France until now", I answered almost mechanically, "but the Ministry recently ratified new legislation, obliging magical students to take their N.E.W.T.s and the two years leading up to them at an officially recognized institution."

This was all technically true. My French private teacher, Monsieur Meunier, had taught me everything a sixteen-year-old witch like myself ought to know, and more. Also, there really was a Ministerial Decree only recently enacted stating that N.E.W.T. students should be enrolled in a magical school of some sort. This Decree however, had been specifically enacted for me. It provided me with a credible background story that didn't start with 'I have this mental mother who has been out to get me all my life, but was finally captured and locked away in Azkaban last June'.

"Bummer", Dan said "France sounds nice from what I've heard."

"Quidditch in Northern France is downright pitiful though," Matteo joined in. "You'd think a city such as Paris would be able to get a decent team together. The St. Germain's Guêpes however-"

"Happens to be the greatest team this planet ever did see," a blonde-haired boy entering the compartment and taking the seat next to Daniel interrupted.

"Godric, not this again." Julie sighed, clearly having had to endure the following discussion multiple times already.

"Even godawful Marbeilla's team is better than Paris'," Matt replied.

"Right, if you sissy boys want another go at 'My-team-is-better-than-yours', I'm heading out. Head Girl duties are calling anyway. Please do try not to bore my cousin to death while I'm away." Jules said loudly enough to drown out the Guêpes' supporter's reply.

After casting a quick Bubble-Head Charm on herself to keep the stench that still filled the hallway at bay, she winked at me and then swiftly stepped out.

Well shit. There went my only friend, leaving me to fend for myself surrounded by strangers.

"C'mon Elisa," I silently braced myself, "you wanted this, just act normal and stick to the story."

"Cousin?" the blonde said confused, after Jules had closed the door behind her.

He looked around the compartment and his eyes settled on me.

"Elisa Thompson", I said in response, giving him a small wave, "said cousin."

"Yeah, we found you a demi-Frenchie like yourself, Louis," Dan added while folding his arms behind his head.

The rest of the train ride passed reasonably uneventful. Chatting some about 'la douce France' with Louis, who predictably turned out to be a member of the gigantic Weasley-Potter clan. Then some with Daniel, who wore an Arctic Monkeys shirt, which happens to be my favourite Muggle band. Munching away on a Chocolate Frog Julie had thrown at me when she'd come back in, different landscapes flashing by. And by the time the skies outside had grown dark and even Matt's and Louis's incessant banter had faded, my nerves had made room for excitement, the likes of which I had only felt the night of the storm.

I was ready.

 _Julie_

Julie was the first to dismount the carriage. She did so carefully, in order not to get mud on the wine-red ballerinas on her feet. This in sharp contrast with her cousin, who followed Julie by unceremoniously jumping out, landing lightly on her worn-out Vans. Dan was pushed out, either by Matt or Louis, or both.

"So," Matt said while crawling out lastly, "let's get you Sorted, Frenchie."

"Yes," Julie agreed while linking her arm with Elisa's, "let's!"

She led Elisa up the stairs, through the enormous open doors, inside the castle, and she could not help but feel her heart swell in anticipation. Not only had she been chosen Head Girl this last year at Hogwarts, not only were she and Matt doing better than ever, and not only had Dan come up with some truly fantastic songs over the summer, but Elisa was finally here to share all upcoming adventures and experiences with.

"Miss Hastings, and I presume Miss Thompson?" Julie heard a squeaky high-pitched voice say.

"Good evening, Professor Flitwick," she all but sang in response, "how do you do?" she then added serenely after succeeding in hiding her excitement.

"Wonderful, just wonderful, thank you," the tiny teacher squealed back.

"Now, Ms. Thompson," he turned to Elisa.

"You are to be sorted before our fresh boatload of first years arrive. Our Headmistress will read the concerning Ministerial Decree out loud, and then you can step forward. For the moment being, I advise you to wait inside the Great Hall, to the left of the Professors' table. I'm certain your cousin will be kind enough to lead the way. Good luck, dear girl!"

Elisa mumbled a quick "thank you, professor", but Flitwick's little legs had already carried him off.

The cousins re-looped their arms, entering the Great Hall, and entering a new year at Hogwarts's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 _Alex_

Walking down the Great Hall, towards the Slytherin table, Alex watched his fellow seventh-year Theo Nott II hopelessly try to chat up some fit-looking Ravenclaw girls. He didn't blame the birds for wrinkling their pretty noses and hurrying towards their House table, for Theo Nott was quite possibly the most disgusting creature Alex ever did meet. He looked alright on the outside, but as soon as he opened his mouth, his stupidity and plain vulgarity made you dread having to spend another second in his repulsive presence.

Thinking of unwanted Notts, Alex did nothing to hide his annoyance when Marissa went to sit directly across from him. They had made out some in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express earlier, but he had had to break things off when Marissa started moaning she loved him. Come to think of it, she'd done that a lot lately. It was beyond Alex why she would think she was anything but a good shag to him, as he certainly hadn't treated her as anything more.

As the rest of Hogwarts's students slowly but steadily found a seat at their corresponding House tables, Alex was starting to realize he'd been foolish to think seventh year would be a good one. He'd hoped things would get better with his idiotic brother graduated and gone, but that didn't take away all the other utter losers surrounding him.

"What's wrong, babe?" Marissa asked in her horrid nasal voice, rubbing her leg up and down his under the table.

"Nothing ever fucking happens around here", he answered, briskly moving his leg away.

She pouted, about to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of McGonagall ticking a fork against her glass, demanding the student body's attention.

"Good-evening," the ancient Headmistress started, "and welcome to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Our first years will arrive shortly, and I will save my full word of welcome for after their Sorting. However, it is now my duty to inform you of this year's new ministerial educational decree. Please listen closely."

She then emerged into reading some piece of legislation Alex soon stopped paying attention to, after hearing it only applied to home-schooled students. Thank Merlin he wasn't home-schooled, Alex thought. Hogwarts might be plain boring most of the time, it still was better than having to spend all year at the Greengrasses' manor. His father's constant scrutiny, his mother's incessant nagging and lately Liam's general presence, were enough to drive anyone utterly mad. Summers were more than enough, thank you very much.

"It thus is my profound pleasure to introduce you to Elisabeth Thompson, who will join the current sixth-formers", McGonagall concluded her speech, turning her attention to somewhere left of the teacher's table.

Two seconds later, a girl around Alex's age emerged from the direction McGonagall had her head turned to. She climbed the stage, her long legs carrying her up the short stairs two steps at a time, and sat down rather awkwardly on the stool that was usually only used for Sorting measly looking first years.

"Fresh meat", Theo whispered loudly, eyeing the girl and elbowing Alex in the ribs.

"What a freak," Marissa added.

Alex ignored them both, watching McGonagall plant the Sorting Hat on the girl's soft brown curls. He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look. Had he met her before?

"She better not be a Slytherin," some sixth year girl sitting next to Marissa said, "I don't share my dorm with freak-shows."

"RAVENCLAW!", the hat proclaimed.

Whilst the House table directly next to his erupted in loud cheers and catcalls, Alex let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, feeling oddly relieved for the girl. There was no way she would've survived the hyenas' den that was Slytherin House.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 _Julie_

Elisa absolutely never failed to surprise.

One would expect a girl who had spent the majority of her life on the outskirts of the continent, hidden away from her psychopathic mother, but also away from any contact or interaction with magical peers and standard social school structure, to be slightly timid, to say the least. And yet the only thing remotely timid about Julie's brown-headed cousin this far into her budding school-career, was perhaps her slow and unsure walk to Ravenclaw table, after the Sorting Hat had proclaimed her House. Accompanied by a wave of applause and loud cheers stemming from the Claws, she'd gone to sit with Daniel, who'd clapped her on the back enthusiastically, and at once introduced her to half of Ravenclaw House. Julie had observed Elisa with admiring disbelief, as she smiled and talked her way through the feast, all while eating more than she herself had all week.

When Julie, Matt, and half a dozen or so other Gryffindors left their tower around 1 am that night to join Daniel, they had found the Ravenclaw common room in full party mode. And amidst it all, was Elisa, happily downing Butterbeer with Daniel's younger sister, Lucy. Upon seeing her cousin, Elisa had engulfed Julie in one of her most smothering embraces, loudly and very drunkenly proclaiming her love for J, for Hogwarts, for life.

A night filled with dancing to Daniel's latest remixes of Muggle tunes, more Butterbeer, and more proclamations of love was what had followed, and Julie's excitement of earlier that night had been confirmed. This year was going to be downright phenomenal.

 _Elisa_

This. Week. Is. Going. To. Be. The. Death. Of. Me.

Currently trying to listen to Friday afternoon's Defense Against the Dark Arts guest lecturer, who happened to be none other than the savior of the magical world, also known as Professor H. Potter, I found it hard to keep my eyes open, let alone pay attention to said savior's elaborate exposition on conjuring a Patronus Charm. Apparently, I had gravely underestimated combining Hogwarts's academics with the school's vibrant social life.

I wasn't the only one having a hard time concentrating, for in the seat next to mine, Lucy Hollister tried, and miserably failed, to stifle a yawn. She shared her sandy hair, heart-shaped face and kindness with her brother, and her dorm with me, as she was a sixth year Ravenclaw as well.

One of the other three occupants of the beds in our dormitory, a petite blonde with a gap between her front teeth named Jill Fisher, was sitting a couple of desks in front of me. She, Lucy and I had spent the previous night in Hogwarts's library, all three of us joining forces in battling a particularly mean Transfiguration assignment. They'd welcomed me into their tiniest of circles with open arms, Lucy particularly glad to have someone that wasn't her brother to spend time with when Jill had Quidditch practice.

However, I hadn't really spoken to the other two sixth year girls in my House. I'd only actually seen Alexa Winters, a gifted Metamorphmagus with a bad attitude, as Lucy had conveniently informed me, twice. Once on Wednesday morning around 6 a.m., when I had been getting ready for my daily work-out and she had apparently only then gotten back from whatever it is she does at night. On my way out she had wished me a " _nighty, newbie_ ", and then plumped down on her four-poster bed, curling up in a ball, snoring within 10 seconds. The second time was when she'd marched into the Great Hall yesterday evening, loaded up a plate with nothing but pudding, sat down next to me, and had wolfed down her dinner, if you could call it one.

The last girl to complete the sixth year Ravenclaw dormitory, almost never left it. Rose Weasley spent her time either sitting on the edge of her bed, staring into nothingness, or standing in front of the window, also staring into nothingness. When I'd asked Lucy what the redhead's deal was, she quietly responded that no-one really knew.

 _Rose_

She knew she hadn't always been like this. This cold. This fear. She hadn't always felt it. But she did now, and that was all that mattered.

She stood facing the window, fixating her eyes on the Whomping Willow, as she had done so many times the past week. Limiting her vision to one particular point on the horizon meant limiting the sources of this all-consuming fear. It was a trick that had helped her regain her place at Hogwarts, for it made her seemingly more in control of the war that raged on inside her.

That, and the silencing charm she performed on her bedroom every night before going to sleep. No use in acting composed and confident during the day, while screaming the entire neighbourhood awake at night because of her recurring nightmares. Her father had easily fallen for it, and after a while, her mother, too. So they'd let her return to school, convinced she had somewhat healed. If only she'd succeeded in fooling herself. Or Albus, for that matter. Her cousin didn't buy the act of composure. He saw it for what it really was. Nothing but an act.

And so she had stayed up here, hidden away in Ravenclaw tower. Away from Albus's and the rest of her numerous cousins' worried eyes, but also away from Scorpius's. She had skipped every class so far this year in order to avoid them, leaving her assignments and homework on Lucy's perfectly made bed to hand them in for her. It hadn't surprised her one bit that none of Hogwarts's staff had come looking for her. After all, she'd watched Alexa skip classes without any repercussion whatsoever for years.

She adjusted her Ravenclaw-emblem embroidered scarf. The weather outside seemed pleasant enough for early September, yet she was dressed in layers upon layers of her grandmother's fuzziest hand-knit woolen sweaters. Since that June night, she had been permanently cold.

She was still fumbling with her House scarf. It had never bothered her before, but somehow the thick blue material now itched worse than direct contact with the nettles in Hagrid's backyard. She threw it on the floor, breathing out heavily and in a frustrated manner, noticing from the corners of her eyes a whisk of white air escaping her lips.

Blinking in surprise, she turned to the floor-length mirror attached to the dormitory's closed door. When she let out another, deliberate this time, breath facing it directly, nothing but her own pale complexion stared back at her. No white air to be seen.

Excellent. Not only had she turned into a complete nutter consumed by constant fear, planning on hiding in her own dormitory for the rest of her school career, she now also had to deal with delusions. And that godawful itch of course, for it had not gone by tossing her scarf aside.

The itch turned into a burning sensation, and suddenly the layers of wool weren't keeping her warm anymore. They were suffocating her, coming down on her like walls in a confined space. Immensely agitated, she removed a first sweater, throwing it on the floor where it landed next to her discarded scarf. Then a second sweater. Then another, then another. When she had finally struggled out of the last one, she was panting, an odd sensation filling her, flooding her. Relief.

Feeling lighter than she had in months, she looked back up in the mirror. Her flustered complexion had a small smile around her lips, but she didn't notice any of this, for the white whisk she had spotted earlier was back. Back a thousand fold.

It was engulfing her, dancing around her like wildfire. And in the wings of light that embraced her, she recognized her own fiery phoenix, her own Patronus.

In that moment, Rose Weasley shook off the weight of the world, which had been dragging her down for months. But no more. No more.

 _Elisa_

"… anyone who has conjured a Patronus before?"

Mindlessly, almost mechanically, I raised my hand.

"Ah, Miss Thompson, is it?" professor Potter said. "Would you care to demonstrate?"

Shit.

"Errr, sure professor", I answered sheepishly.

I could feel blood rising to my cheeks as everyone's attention shifted towards me. Trying to concentrate, I slowly breathed out, raising my wand.

"E-expecto patronum", I stuttered.

A tiny whisk of white light escaped from the tip of my wand, almost immediately evaporating.

The class erupted into snickers and stifled laughs, and I could feel my face turning beetroot-red.

"Go back to where you came from, you pretentious continental freak-show. And do take that horrid French accent with you," the girl in the seat in front of me whispered hatefully, loudly enough for everyone to hear, but not for Potter to determine where the remark came from.

Shame made room for rage instantly.

This bitch with a bad nose-job, she'd no clue what a continental freak-show with a French accent could do. I'd show her.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

An enormous ocean of the purest of white lights sprouted from my wand, immediately engulfing the entire classroom with its blueish swirls, illuminating every dusty corner and bookshelf on its path.

With each student the white light reached, a different animal joined the horde of illuminated madness. Lucy's golden retriever wagged its tail at me, before joining Nose-job's peacock. A dolphin, a Bengal tiger and horse jumped over my head. From left and right, more animals sprouted to life, bathing, dancing, flourishing in the white light I was still producing.

I stood up, laughing, feeling lighter than ever, stronger than ever, relishing in the light of the glorious circus that was my doing and mine alone, taking place right in front of my eyes, in front of everyone's eyes!

A magnificent stag separated itself from the crowd, made its way towards me, cocking its head questioningly.

Finally lowering my wand, the animals running their last before slowly evaporating, I turned to Nose-job.

"How's that for a freak-show?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Last June, part 1**

 _Rose_

"You're the shittiest liar in all of Hogwarts, cousin dearest", Albus Potter mockingly shook his head.

"There's no way you're just going for a nightly stroll without there being any bloke involved. So please feel free to spill this week's cockroach's name."

"Just give me the Cloak, Al", Rose answered, rolling her eyes.

Growing up a girl in a family filled with cousins always ready to jump at the first opportunity to gather some fresh dirt on each other, Rose didn't even blush at Albus's questioning. It was, in fact, quite decent and prim for Wotter standards.

"Just give me the name, Rose", Al mimicked her, smirking.

"The Cloak of Invisibility for the name of the tosser that asked you out."

"Fine, be that way," she shrugged, getting up from the comfortable plush armchair she'd been lounging in in the Gryffindor's common room.

"I'll manage without."

"Now what makes you think I will let my favourite cousin wander the grounds by herself? Nay, I am accompanying you on this quest, cousin dearest", Albus grinned, getting up as well.

"Petrificus totalus!"

Albus turned to stone instantly, the perplex expression on his face scrunching up his otherwise rather handsome features, and Rose put her wand away just as swiftly as she had whipped it out from her Ravenclaw robes.

"I think you will find you're doing no such thing, cousin dearest," she said, whilst kneeling by Albus's motionless figure and spreading one of the many deep-red fuzzy blankets laying around Gryffindor Tower across his torso.

"There, there. In case you get cold," she said lovingly, while tucking in his feet.

"I'll see you at breakfast," Rose skipped off towards the common room's portrait hole, adding "and do try not to be too cross with me!", before climbing out and heading down to the boat house by the Black Lake, where she would meet none other than Scorpius Malfoy at midnight.

 _Scorpius_

Scorpius Malfoy didn't think Faye Ainsley could get any more stereotypical.

A thick layer of gloss smeared across her pouty lips, a couple too many buttons on her uniform shirt undone, a whiny voice, a set of minions with a grand total of maybe 6 brain cells, and an allowance higher than the average wizard's monthly income. She might as well have a " _fucking cliché_ " neon-sign permanently floating above her head. Hmm, there's an idea…

"… and I get that she's your potions partner and all, but Scorpius babes, you can do so much better than Clarence Clearwater. Did you know she …"

On normal days, Scorpius could somewhat handle Ainsley's incessant nagging. He'd tune out, ' _hmm'ed'_ and ' _aha'd_ ' once in a while, keep her, and thus her influential daddy, satisfied. Today however, he couldn't muster the patience. She'd been on about Clarence, one of the few Slytherins he genuinely liked, for a solid 10 minutes now. She was making him late.

"Faye," he interrupted her loudly.

Her whining ended abruptly.

"Go on a date with me."

Her sticky mouth dropped open in surprise, forming a perfect O.

"31st of June. 8 o'clock common room, yeah?" he called over his shoulder, as he had already stalked past her, grateful for her temporary muteness.

Before Faye could realize this month only had 30 days, he rounded the corner and sprinted up the stone stairs.

Away from Faye fucking Ainsley, away from the Slytherin Dungeons his obnoxious cousins reigned as kings.

Towards the grounds, towards the boathouse, towards Rose.

 _James_

"That bitch," was the first thing to come out of his younger brother's mouth after James unfroze him.

"Our darling sister did this to you, then?" James smirked appreciatively.

"Rose," Al spat while throwing off the fuzzy blanket and scrambling to his feet.

James watched him pad his robes, looking for …

"Aha!", his brother exclaimed triumphantly while extracting a ruddy looking piece of parchment from his grey uniform trousers.

"Let's find the soulless bint, shall we. And more importantly, the wanker she's seeing."

James wasn't really too interested in Rose's love life. Simply too many cousins to keep up with. However, it was either accompanying Albus, or studying for his upcoming finals. Not a particularly tough choice to make, especially since he was already set to play professional Quidditch after graduating anyway. So he shrugged unconcernedly, took out his wand and tapped the piece of yellowed parchment Al had unfolded.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Blotches of red ink appeared, thinning out and spreading quickly, drawing out the one and only Marauder's Map.

Albus impatiently flipped it towards the page displaying Hogwarts's grounds, mumbling " _going for an evening walk…"_ sceptically.

Despite the warm June night, there were only three little name banners floating above the image of the castle grounds. Not surprisingly so, as final exams where excruciatingly close, and the majority of the student body had either locked themselves inside their respective common rooms, or was preparing for a two-week camp out in the library. The first banner bore the name of some Pansy-chick James had never heard of, and hovered close to the banks of the Black Lake. Not far off, Rose Weasley's name floated directly above the old boat house. The last banner had only just exited Hogwarts's main entrance, and was apparently making its way down the stone stairs leading up to the castle. It read Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

"Bloody fucking hell", was all Al could manage.

"Ooooh, this is going to better than I ever expected", was James's response.

Although he might not be particularly interested in the love lives of the various members of his oversized family, James Sirius Potter did not say no to witnessing a healthy dose of drama. His brother and he walking in on Rose and Scorpius bloody Malfoy was a promise of a dramatic showdown of epic proportions, to say the least.

"Let's go, then", he grinned at Albus, who was still fuming, and not only from being hexed earlier.

Seven flights of moving stairs and a couple of secret passage-ways later, the Potter boys exited the castle, and Albus threw their father's ancient Invisibility Cloak over them both. It did not completely reach down to their feet anymore, as it used to in their earlier years at Hogwarts. But for keeping teachers who accidentally looked out their office window from spotting two famous raven-haired boys with illuminated wands outside the castle after hours, it made do. Another shortcut through Hagrid's overgrown vegetable patch and a descent down the boat house's slippery wooden stairs brought the duo to the school's quays soon enough.

Where they found a scene clashing entirely with what they'd expected.

"… not for you, Scorpius darling. She's beneath you," a middle-aged woman with a pug-like face was standing in the middle of the boathouse, gesturing towards the boys' red-haired cousin.

Rose was fixed near the end of the quay, mere inches away from the lake's water, pure shock plastered on her freckle-covered face, seemingly unable to move from her spot.

"I understand. You're young. Young in a world that has changed too much, has deflected too much from the old ways. Has almost forgotten about them altogether."

And Malfoy, confident and self-assured Malfoy, was against the wooden shack's wall, the house's ropes tied magically around his ankles, his wrists, his waist. Idly trying to struggle free, but to no avail, his expression nothing but fear.

"It's not your fault. Look out for my Pandora, and you will realize. My Pandora, she's worthy. Soon enough. But until then, Scorpius dear, let me teach you a lesson. Set an example, if you will."

And with that, the woman hit Rose with an Unforgiveable.

"Crucio."

It sent Rose flying into the Black Lake's dark waters, crying out in agony, leaving Malfoy screaming her name in despair, trying to fight off the ropes harder than ever. Albus was the first to react, running from under the Cloak, charging before James had even fully realized the gravity of the situation.

"Expulso!"

Albus's sudden appearance certainly took the witch by surprise, yet she reacted readily by throwing up a quick but imperfect protective shield. The force of the spell backfired nonetheless, sending Al flying into the wooden wall Malfoy was tied to, where to James's horror, his brother remained motionless.

Fucking hell, what was he supposed to do. His mind was completely blank, no offensive spell whatsoever he could think of. Here he was, Harry fucking Potter's oldest son, invisible under the Cloak, and no idea how to save his family. Some Gryffindor he was.

Coughing sounds came from the water. Rose had resurfaced from the depths of the lake, grabbing the edge of the quays and trying to hoist herself back up. Albus's spell must have broken the witch's concentration. Unfortunately, James wasn't the only one to have heard Rose coughing up her guts.

"Oh no, Weasley," the woman hissed, a tad out of breath "you're not going anywhere".

"Sectumsempra!"

The spell, one unknown to James at that, sent Rose flying into the water again, but not before he saw and, possibly even more hauntingly, heard it rip and tear open her chest, colouring the water she'd disappeared in almost black with blood.

So James did the only thing he could think of, performed the only spell on his previously blank mind. From his invisible advantage, Malfoy's screams ringing in his ears, he, too, _Sectumsempra'd_ the hell out of the raving lunatic bitch who had dared touch his family.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Last June, part 2**

 _James_

James had always hated hospitals, Hogwarts's hospital wing included. They reeked of antiseptic magic, revolting healing potions, and musty bed linen. And if the smell wasn't enough to do you in, the eerie silence definitely would. Any conversation seemed whispered and hushed, the tiniest of noises, even if it was only the wind slightly ruffling the stiff lime green curtains, appeared out of place in the kingdom of the hurt, the sick, and the dying.

Rose had only just slipped through the mashes of the net that was the latter category. All thanks to James's father, accompanied by his unit of trained Aurors, rushing down the stairs of the boathouse only moments after James's curse had hit the woman full in the chest. The Aurors had swiftly taken control of the situation from there, cutting down Malfoy, diving after Rose, reviving Al, and trusting the bunch of them into the healing hands of the absolutely ancient Madame Pomfrey.

"Dad," James' voice broke through the ward's silence, echoing against the ghastly stone walls.

"How did you know we needed you? How did you know where to find us?"

His father looked up from his position in between Rose's and Al's bed. Both of them were as pale as their spotless white hospital sheets, both of them in a deep, Sleeping Draught-induced, slumber. The difference being, however, that Albus would be free to leave and go about his merry way tomorrow morning. Same went for Malfoy, who was in the bed next to his.

"We've been trying to track down that woman for years," Harry Potter sighed, fatigue clear in his voice.

"Who is she? And why was she after Rose?"

Images of Rose flying backwards into the waters of the Black Lake like a ragged doll flashed through James's mind again, and anger flared up inside of him. Not only at the psycho bitch going after his cousin and her sad excuse of a date, but also at himself. For not reacting faster, for letting Al, his younger brother for fuck's sake, take the heat.

"Pansy Parkinson", his father answered.

James nodded. That was the name his brother and he had seen on the Maurauder's Map earlier.

"And I don't think she was after Rose," he continued. "She was in all probability here for Scorpius Malfoy."

"Why? What could she possibly want with Malfoy? She said Rose wasn't worthy of him, but what's it to her?"

"Parkinson used to be involved with Scorpius's father, Draco Malfoy. Up until the end of the Second Wizarding War, that is."

Harry took off his glasses tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose before he continued.

"When most Slytherins more or less abandoned their blood purity ideals, Malfoy included, Parkinson only radicalized. Of course, it didn't help that she got hit by a couple of rogue curses and a stray crystal ball during the Battle of Hogwarts. So here we are, a good two decades later, and a criminally insane witch at our hands."

James, getting the feeling his father was leaving something out, questioned further.

"Who's Pandora, then?"

At that, Harry's head shot up, weariness instantly turning into vigilance. Before he had a chance to answer his son however, the hospital wings' doors flew open. James's mother ran inside, closely followed by his aunt and uncle, and Headmistress McGonagall.

"Listen James," Harry managed to say under his breath, before the new-comers made their hurried way down.

"Not a word of this to anyone. I will personally see to it that Al, Rose and Scorpius know precisely what we've just discussed. But as far as the rest of the school's concerned, Rose accidentally fell in the lake, and is in the hospital wing being treated for severe hypothermia. What really happened tonight is highly classified information, for senior Auror eyes and ears only. Understood?"

James nodded reluctantly, more or less understanding the gravity of tonight's events, but not quite satisfied with his father's vague answers.

"And for your safety and hers, forget about Pandora, son. Please."

Only moments later, James found himself being smothered by an embrace even grandmother Molly's couldn't rival. Leaning into his mother's arms made him realize how tired he, too, in fact was. Of course Ginny noticed as well, and after another peck on his cheek, she sent him off to his dorm. He had half a heart to object, but was secretly grateful. After all, the hands of the hospital clock pointed out it was well past 4 in the morning.

So after briefly greeting Rose's parents, he made his way out the ward's heavy doors, and up the marble staircase. His eyes were drooping so much, he nearly missed the hooded figure waiting for him on the first floor's landing.

"Will she be alright?"

James jumped at the voice.

"What? Who's there?"

The figure stepped forward a little, out of the shadows, and pushed back the hood of its black sweater, revealing violet eyes and blonde hair with pink ends.

James recognized her immediately, though he doubted he'd ever exchanged one word with the girl.

Alexa Winters, Hogwarts's resident Metamorphmagus and bad girl.

"Will Rose be alright?" Winters repeated.

"Hypothermia, fell into the Black Lake" James said automatically, obeying his father's orders.

"Don't lie," she spat.

"When a bunch of Aurors carries you into the hospital wing at 1 in the morning, shit's worse than falling victim to a common cold."

"Don't tell me- " James started.

"But that's entirely besides the question," Winters interrupted him effortlessly, slightly waving her hand.

"I asked whether she was going to be alright, and that's all I need to know from you, Potter."

James, too tired to argue, conceded.

"Yeah, she'll be alright."

The girl nodded slowly, before pulling on her hood again. She then turned around and walked away, the dark corridor quickly swallowing her.

"She'll be alright, she'll be alright." James repeated, trying to believe it himself.

"He'll be alright, we'll be alright."

 _Rose_

"Weasley!" Alexa Winters tried again, urgently.

To no avail, as Rose's screams continued to penetrate the hospital wing, resonating a terrifying mixture of agony and fear.

"Bloody snap out of it, Rose!"

She only seemed to convulse more violently, limbs tangled up in her bedsheets, mind stuck in her world of nightmares.

Seeing no other option, Alexa turned to a slightly more brutal solution, and bitch-slapped her House-mate clean across her pale, in anguish-contorted, face. At that, Rose awoke from her rotten slumber with a jolt, gasping for air as the screaming finally ceased.

Propping herself up against the pristinely white pillows, still a little out of breath, she nodded at Winters.

"This is shit," Alexa said in response.

It wasn't the first time this week that Alexa had had to pull Rose out of her nightmarish, flooded with blood-red waters, dream-world, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant.

"Shit it is indeed," Rose nodded in agreement.

After that, the girls remained silent for a while, which Rose didn't mind at all. Alexa Winters knew when there was nothing to be said, and then wisely shut her plum lipstick-coloured mouth accordingly. Unlike every other visitor Rose 'd had whilst being stuck in the hospital wing.

Al, Scorpius, Dom, the other Ravenclaw girls, her parents. They had all felt the excruciatingly annoying urge to talk about what happened, to ask whether she was alright, to inform her about the weather, to fill every minute threatening to turn into silence with meaningless chit-chatting.

No, Rose preferred Alexa's company by a long shot. The girl would merely sit at her side, letting her stare at nothing in particular. When the by now far too familiar all-consuming cold seized her, and Rose's hands would tremble too hard to ignore, Alexa would silently grip the wrist closest to her and hold it until Rose would regain control. Winters helped, which was far more than could be said for her family and the like.

Weirdly enough however, the girls had never been close before The Boathouse Incident, as James had dubbed last week's events. This had crossed Rose's mind, and she really had no idea why Winters gave Rose her time of the day, but she had decided not to care. Caring meant thinking, meant hurting, meant losing control, which Rose 'd rather not, especially over company that didn't, for a change, make her blood boil.

Speaking of which.

The heavy wooden hospital doors creaked open, and in shuffled Scorpius Malfoy.

Alexa took this as her cue to leave, squeezing Rose's hand one last time before briefly nodding at Scorpius and walking out the hospital wing.

"Hello", Scorpius said awkwardly, taking Winters's place.

Why was everything he said or did accompanied by an awful dose of awkwardness these days? He used to be the walking embodiment of confidence, a smug grin permanently plastered on his aristocratic face. Rose could never decide whether to consider this incredibly obnoxious or incredibly attractive.

"How are you?" he continued, just as uneasily.

Rose didn't answer. She didn't see what use it'd be. She just watched him as he tried to chase away the silence with a stream of meaningless chatter. It physically hurt her that he had to resort to subjects such as the weather or professor Binns's inability to teach. As if they were nothing more than strangers.

"Scorpius", she finally interrupted him.

His grey eyes flickered and curiously met hers.

"I think you should leave".

Speaking those words felt like reopening her Sectumsempra-inflicted wounds, which had healed rather quickly, to Madame Pomfrey's astonishment.

"Of course, you must be tired. I'll come back tomorrow after …"

"You don't understand," she interrupted him once more.

"I want you to leave and not come back."

She was surprised at how steady and calm her voice sounded, compared to the storm of emotions raging through her head, through her heart.

Realization spread across Scorpius's fine features.

"Is this… Are you…," he stuttered.

"We're done", she finished for him, her tone harsh and decisive.

Then softer. "We lived in a dream, Scor. Our moments together, stolen."

"No," he said. "No, it was real. It is real! We're real, Rose."

"This is real", Rose suddenly shouted, violently tearing open her pyjama top.

Buttons flew everywhere, the striped fabric now lying at Rose's sides revealing her bare chest. She wasn't wearing a bra, but she didn't care. Scorpius wouldn't be looking at her breasts. No, the thick blood-red scar tissue spread haphazardly across her entire torso, a life-long reminder of how she would never be good enough, would draw his full attention. And it did. She watched as horror and disgust at the sight of her contorted his beautiful face.

"Rose…"

"Just go, please", she whispered while covering herself again with her bedsheets, a single tear rolling down her face.

He did as she asked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 _Elisa_

"I do not believe I have properly introduced myself to you yet, Miss Thompson" professor Potter began.

After the magical circus of Patronus-light had finally fully subdued, he had dismissed class. I had tried to escape the DADA-classroom as quickly as possible, throwing my books and quills haphazardly into my canvas school bag, wanting to get away from all the staring eyes and open mouths.

Remarkable, really, how unbelievably fast my feelings could swing from shame at being called a freak-show, to pride for conjuring about 20 Patronuses, straight back to shame for being gawked at like an utter outcast. Maybe I should have the school nurse check that out sometime soon.

Unfortunately, Potter had had different plans, and had asked me to stay while the other students, still dumb-struck, gradually seeped out of the room.

So here I was, wondering what it was that Potter could possibly want from me, all the while trying to keep my eyes from flickering up to the magical world's most famous scar.

"Of course you know my name and profession" he easily acknowledged but just as rapidly dismissed his life-long fame and astonishing career as youngest Head Auror to ever walk London's Head Quarters.

"What you perhaps have no knowledge of, is that, little over fifteen years ago, you and your mother's case was assigned to me."

I could instantly feel all colour draining from my face. My heart skipped a beat or three, a single thought flashing through my mind. She must've escaped.

"Not to worry, Miss Thompson," Potter said in a calming tone, clearly having picked up on the plain fear in my eyes, "as your mother is still safely locked away in Azkaban prison, awaiting trial."

"With your mother finally apprehended and the Ministry allowing you to attend Hogwarts, it would seem that all possible perils have been permanently averted."

I furrowed, wondering which point he was trying to get across. I knew all of this already, didn't I?

"However, blindly assuming your mother was the only dangerous megalomaniac out there, would be gravely underestimating man's eternal hunger for power."

He leaned back in his chair then, before adding: "especially for forces as rare and valuable as yours."

"My mother's obsession with power doesn't have anything to do with me," I started defensively.

"It's based on nothing but hot air. A meaningless prophecy some poor old woman made decades ago. Who says it's about me? That it's even about anyone, really? 90 per cent of all prophecies made don't even come close to ever coming true."

I had thought these words at least a million times. Whilst being scooped up in France, a prisoner in my own house. Whilst following private lessons in my Dad's office, instead of attending classes with my peers at Hogwarts. Whilst sitting alone in my room at night, thinking of friends I couldn't make. Voicing them out loud made me realize how truly angry I was at the woman that happened to have given birth to me. She and her ridiculous obsession with powers neither she nor I would ever possess had deprived me of everything I'd ever wanted.

"She was both crazy and cruel long before she heard about the damned thing," I spat out bitterly.

Potter had let me finish my little rant without interrupting me, and was now carefully eyeing me through his iconic round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Elisa," he said gently.

"The prophecy does not under any circumstances justify your mother's behaviour, I fully agree with you. However, I think you and I both know, especially after today's Patronus spectacle, that you're more powerful than you're willing to admit."

I didn't object, because deep down I knew Potter was right.

As realization hit, I suddenly was tired to the bone. The adrenaline I had felt when surrounded by all that blueish light had faded, and now this exhausting week's fatigue had once again caught up with me. Limbs heavy and eyes drooping, I closed them for a second, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

"You're not in any trouble, Miss Thompson. But I would advise you to not…" he waved his hands in a circular motion while trying to find his words.

"Ah,… to not _flaunt_ your particular gifts, if you will. Word travels fast in the magical world, and before my team and I can say 'Head Quarters', news of today's performance will have reached the wizarding underworld. And let me tell you, crime lords would quite literally kill to be able to recruit you and your peculiar abilities."

"So you want me to lay low?" I successfully summarized the entire conversation.

He nodded.

"Just a piece of advice. You may do with it what you like of course, but I would greatly appreciate it if you would take it to heart. It would make my job a whole lot easier if you did, to be honest."

"With or without prophecy, Miss Thompson, I think it is clear our world can expect great things from you. Great, great things."

Some sort of melancholic smile was playing around his lips.

"I simply do not think it is quite ready to know that just yet."

And with that, I was dismissed.

I thanked Potter for the advice, then hoisted my heavy schoolbag over my shoulder and made for the door. It closed behind me with a thud, and I found myself in a deserted corridor.

Oh fuck.

I'd mindlessly followed Jill and Lucy to get to class earlier, and now I had not the faintest idea how I'd gotten here, let alone how to get back to either the Great Hall or Ravenclaw tower.

Was it left maybe? For the life of me, I could not recall. The weight of my bag was painfully cutting into my shoulder as I stood deliberating, and a dull headache was thudding against my temples. Since when had that been there?

I started for the painting on the stone wall opposite me, in an attempt to maybe ask it where I was, but the world fogged up and started spinning at the movement.

I balled my fists in order to get some sort of grip on what was happening. What _was_ happening?

Another wave of dizziness hit, so I closed my eyes.

Maybe if I…

… if I …

… just sat down…

…for a…

…for a while…

Maybe

 _Alex_

"Nothing ever fucking happens around here", Alex thought for at least the tenth time in the last thirty minutes, while impatiently tapping his foot.

Thank Salazar for Lexi Winters, however.

The girl might be a poor wench of a Muggle-born with a puzzling preference for meeting in fishy hidden hallways behind mouldy tapestries, her inexhaustible stash of high-quality magic-enhanced Muggle drugs more than made up for all of it. And there was no way Alex was getting through the weekend, namely tonight's first inter-House party of the semester, on Firewhiskey alone.

Alex did not so much as blink as Winters finally made her ever-changing appearance when suddenly joining him in today's agreed upon secret passage. She was late as usual, but didn't acknowledge this and jumped straight to business.

"Got what's mine?"

"Naturally", Alex answered, throwing a small pouch of gold towards her.

Instead of catching it, Winters froze it mid-air with a flick of her wand. The pouch opened, and one by one, Galleons flew out, hovering in formation. Alex rolled his eyes at the formalities, but was inwardly once again impressed by Winters' s professionalism.

Lexi only dealt with a handful of the school's most trust-worthy rich kids, Alex obviously being one of them. Yet business seemed to be ever-blooming for Winters, as she seemingly effortlessly got her hands on much sought-after narcotics of impressively high quality, taking home heaps of wizarding gold in return. Were it not for her polluted blood, Alex would almost openly admit to appreciating her for her massive black market talents.

When Lexi was finally satisfied with the amount and authenticity of the gold, the coins flew back into their pouch, which she plucked from the air.

In return, Alexa tossed Greengrass some sort of spray can, which could almost pass for a deodorant if you didn't know what you had laid your fortunate hands on.

Alex caught it effortlessly, so she proceeded to throw him a small bag of balloons.

"Emerald and silver", she smirked as she had charmed the colour of the balloons in reference of Greengrass's House.

"Pleasure doing business with you Winters, as always", Alex said, smoothing his robes in which he had just hidden both freshly purchased highly illegal items.

He nodded in goodbye, but as he was about to push aside the tapestry to make for the Slytherin Dungeons and have his first laughing gas inflated balloon, another body came tumbling through.

Both Alexa and Alex, a similarity in names neither Winters nor Greengrass liked to dwell on for too long, drew their wands in a matter of seconds.

Utterly unnecessary however, as the person that had just literally fallen at their feet, remained there, face-down and motionless.

"The fuck?" Winters successfully voiced Alex's thoughts.

The pair exchanged a confused glance before Alex shrugged and pointed his wand.

" _Levicorpus_."

Now hanging upside down in mid-air, unconscious as far as Alex could tell, was the new girl.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _Rose_

Rose's first public appearance since that purposeful night last June went exactly as could have been expected. Heads turned, subtle whispers emerged and not-so-subtle fingers were pointed.

Because, when a daughter of Britain's most celebrated wizarding family gets involved in some freak accident and consequently disappears from public life for the entire summer, of course people are going to stare when she casually walks into the Great Hall for dinner on a busy Friday night.

Most students had thought she had quit school altogether, and most of her cousins had expected her to spend the rest of her miserable life wrapped up in multiple blankets and staring out of windows.

Rose Weasley however, had decided it was going to be neither.

By the time she had made it halfway to the Ravenclaw table, Rose had succeeded in fixating every pair of eyes Hogwarts's student body had to offer upon herself. She tried her best to avoid a certain pair of icy blue ones over at the Snakes' table, and downright ignored Albus's demanding glare, all the while holding her head high in a manner that impressed even Lily, the most stuck-up of her cousins.

Rose settled for a place next to Alexa, who promptly handed her a slice of treacle tart, and opposite a seemingly out-of-place Gryffindor. James, who at first looked like he wanted to say something, but then shrugged and went back to passionately downing his mince pie.

And that was that.

 _Lily_

Hidden away in the Slytherin common room's loo, Lily Potter stared at her reflection.

Signature red hair falling past her shoulder blades in what appeared to be nonchalant waves. Tight and expensive emerald body-con dress hugging her features in all the right places, showing just the right amount of legs. An outfit she had had planned days before the new semester had even started. Cat-eyes, matching lip-stick and, thanks to her eldest cousin Victoire's exclusive new make-up line, flawless skin.

Yet no amount of immaculately applied foundation could cover up the scowl around her cherry-coloured lips. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of it, and more importantly, at the thought of the cause of it.

She had been humiliated.

Worse still, she had been humiliated in front of the sixth years and in front of her father, by some random new girl, some random freak-show.

The flood of white blue-ish light was branded on her net-fleece still. How could it not be? So bright, so many Patronuses, so disgustingly _majestic_.

And then her own peacock. Of all beasts and creatures. A _peacock_. How embarrassingly pathetic, compared to her brothers' hawk and grey wolf. Add that to the long list of Lily Potter's Family Disappointments and Disgraces. Another addition being of course, that she had not even conjured the damn bird herself.

She had never been able to, even though her father had been trying to teach her ever since she turned eleven and first visited Ollivander's. The most important charm for the most important girl in his life, he had said. Years had passed since then, and not once had even the tiniest of white whisks escaped from her wand. It still hadn't, which was why fifth year Slytherin Lily had been forced to join the sixth year DADA students in the past afternoon's guest lecture, given by none other than Daddy Dearest.

Her father had been the one to arrange the entire thing. If Harry Potter wants his youngest to temporarily trade classes, Harry Potter gets his way. Not that Lily minded, she herself had never shied away from name-dropping. Might as well put this impossible-to-live-up-to legacy to use. Plus, the entire student body had thought she possessed some mad Defence skills, attending classes above her year.

Right up until the moment New Girl decided to step up and unleash everyone's Patronuses, that is. Fucking freak had only been at Hogwarts for a week, and already was the talk of the school.

 _And she had humiliated her._

An average Slytherin girl's response would be to declare the Claw an Unspeakable, to add her to the long list of Hogwarts's version of outcasts no self-respecting Snake would ever want to be seen with.

However, contrary to her mother's beliefs, Lily Potter was smarter than that.

New Girl was strong, there was no doubt about it. And at one point or another, that strength would be put to use. The question was, where would Lily stand at that time? If up to her, not in the position she was in now.

For if there was one thing the youngest Potter held to be irrevocably true, it was that powerful enemies make even more powerful allies.

Lily forced the scowl from her face, straightened her shoulders and smacked her lips. Time to attend a party and mingle among the Houses, time to introduce herself to the current object of Hogwarts's rumour mill, time to make peace with Elisabeth Thompson. Sort of.

 _Julie_

Flashes of neon yellow, green, pink.

These were the moments she shook off her otherwise carefully orchestrated demeanour, shed her feverishly polished Head Girl skin.

Back-stage waiting for her cue, Julie thought not of her patrol rounds or organizing brunch for alumni Prefects. She thought not of Elisa a couple of floors down in the hospital wing, not of the three highly unwanted rolls of fat forming at her mid-riff whenever she sat, not of this year's NEWT examinations, not even of Max scorching his left eyebrow during Exploding Snap earlier or Matteo's tanned hands lifting the hem of her skirt yesterday night.

She thought only of the bright lights leaving imprints on her retina, of the strong beat pumping in her chest. The most delicious mixture of her own quickened heart-rate and the deep bass Dan was blasting from the magically enhanced speakers.

The music built and built, up and up, the notes rising and rising towards a climax Julie knew only she could deliver. She grinned, pointing the tip of her wand at her throat and whispering " _sonorus_ ". It was time.

Exploding from a ball of silver and gold glitter, Julie finally made her appearance on stage.

"WHAT'S UP HOGWARTS?!", she belted, her voice effortlessly carrying throughout the entire Room of Requirement, which served as loyal venue to the first inter-House party of the school-year.

Simultaneously, Dan dropped the beat, and the crowd went positively bonkers.

Gryffindor, Slytherin, Badger or Claw, pimply fourth year or confident NEWTs student, lean Quidditch player or stern Prefect. None of it mattered. Hogwarts's student body moved as one, jumping up and down to the sound of Julie's voice combined with the sequence of electronic beats Daniel had composed over the summer. Arms, legs, pumping fists and stamping feet. None of it belonged to anyone, all of it belonged to everyone. The most exquisite kind of carnage this was, she thought.

Julie looked back at her friend behind the turn-tables, who raised his Firewhiskey in acknowledgement. A silent toast to another year of forming the inner-circle of Hogwarts's tireless party crowd.

Flashes of neon yellow, green, pink.

These were the moments no-one could ever take away from Julie, try as they might.

 _Elisa_

Everything was so heavy.

I tried stepping forward, but my feet seemed to be rooted on the spot. I tried lifting a hand, but gravity seemed to have tripled its hold, weighing me down like a concrete block.

Everything was so loud.

Dozens of voices, shouting. I tried singling one out, but could not make out a thing. It was like concentrating on my Dad's Muggle telly with the volume on max, when it was broadcasting nothing but static and snow.

Everything was so hot.

Itchy almost. Like red ants ruthlessly crawling under my skin, like blue flames impatiently licking away at my limbs, gnawing at first flesh and then bone, leaving me with nothing but my aching soul.

Everything was so bright.

If only I could close my eyes, shut out this hellish blue-white light. My lashes seemed to be stuck to my eyelids however, forcing me to take it all in, to helplessly undergo whatever rays were thrown my way.

And it hurt. All of it. It hurt so much.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 _Alex_

Like a particularly stubborn wizarding wine stain on his mother's favourite table linen, Elisabeth Thompson had appeared and made an unexpected dent in Alex's Friday night plans.

After taking turns at levitating Thompson's lifeless body to the Hospital Wing and quite literally dropping her in Madame Pomfrey's healing hands, Winters and Alex quickly went their separate ways. Unsurprisingly, Alexa managed to disappear the moment Thompson's body hit the mattress of one of the hospital beds. Alex followed suit, skipping dinner and heading straight for the Slytherin Dungeon, where he kicked an ignorant first year out of his favourite leather armchair.

This is where he stayed the remainder of the evening. Cracking a bottle of Firewhiskey. Contemplating whether and when to switch to the silver and green balloons Winters had provided him with. Disinterestedly watching his fellow Slytherins grow exponentially more excited about tonight's inter-House party with every turn of the hour. And thinking about the girl in the Hospital Wing now and then. Around ten, Marissa Nott came by to snag a sip of his by now almost empty bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Oh my Salazar, have you heard?" she shrieked, after a swig straight from the bottle.

Whenever Marissa uttered the words, 'oh my Salazar', Alex's immediate reflex was to tune out whatever followed from her full lips. Dulled by the alcohol now steadily running through his veins however, he for once did, more or less, catch her next words.

Last period. That new girl. Absolute freak. Over two dozen of Patronuses. Surely Dark Magic.

"If it weren't for Lily Potter, she'd be an Unspeakable by now", Marissa concluded characteristically nasally.

Alex simply stared at her in response. Nott perceived this silence as nothing more than his usual cold indifference, but in reality, Alex's head was spinning. And not only from the excessive amount of alcohol he'd managed to down already.

Two dozen Patronuses with one spell.

No wonder the new girl had blacked out earlier today. The use of magic of such magnitude probably drained her faster than a Blast-Ended Skrewt barbecues its victims. Yet to be able to harness such magical power-

"Come find me at the party later, yeah?" Marissa interrupted Alex's train of thought.

She handed him back the liquor before turning on her heel, making sure she swayed her hips suggestively as she walked off and joined her usual pack of friends. Alex barely noticed, leaning back in his chair and chewing his cheek absentmindedly.

Two fucking dozen. There's a trick he needed to learn. And best sooner rather than later.

Thus he took one last swig of Firewhiskey, before charming the rest of the amber liquid to pour itself into the Greengrass family crest engraved flask he almost always had hidden in one pocket or another. Alex then headed out, but instead of following the throng of overly excited teens trying to subtly creep their way up to the Room of Requirement, he made way for the Hospital Wing.

He pushed open the heavy wooden doors for the second time that day, finding the ward dimly-lit and deserted but for the figure of Elisabeth Thompson in the second bed on his left. He then proceeded to curse his own stupidity. Thompson would not be spilling any Patronus-wielding secrets anytime soon, as she of course was fast asleep in her cot. He should've known. Well, it looked like he'd be making an appearance at the Room of Requirement after all.

As Alex was about to leave and go fetch his balloons, when the girl suddenly stirred in her cot, a low whimper escaping from her lips. He took a tentative step towards her, then cringed as a full-blown shriek echoed through the ward. Thompson was now writhing in her sheets, beads of sweat clearly visible on her forehead.

"Fuck", Alex hissed between his teeth, before swiftly closing the distance between his spot by the door and the only occupied bed in the ward.

"Wake up!" he tried, gripping the twisting and turning girl by her shoulders and shaking her gently.

This only resulted in more whimpering. Alex grunted in frustration. Where was Pomfrey when you needed the damned woman?

"Get it together new girl!" he now shouted, shaking her more violently.

At this, Thompson's eyes flew open, and when they set on Alex, she instinctively crawled away as far as her hospital bed would allow. Back pressed against the iron headboard, expression pure panic.

"Merlin, what's your deal?" Alex greeted agitatedly.

Thompson was panting heavily, but after looking him up and down with as much scrutiny as she could muster, she apparently concluded he formed no threat, so she slumped against her pillows again.

"Tha- thank you," she managed to utter between ragged breaths, 'for waking me," she closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to calm down.

"The nightmares… usually I wake up from them almost immediately, but now I couldn't…," a slight pause, "I couldn't do it myself, so thank you."

"Err…, that's quite alright," Alex answered, suddenly unsure of the entire situation, so his response sounded more like a question than a statement.

To occupy his hands, he took out the flask he had filled earlier, unscrewing the lid and taking a quick swig.

"Well, I must be off now. I –"

"Is it strong?" Thompson interrupted him, gesturing towards the object in his hands.

"Firewhiskey," he simply said, slightly surprised by her question.

"Very different from Muggle whiskey?"

Alex was about to respond he wouldn't know, because he had never tasted anything as lowly and polluted as Muggle whiskey, but the girl cut him off again.

"Never mind," she said, then simply took the flask from his hands before taking a long swig, even going as far as slightly tilting her head back as she drank.

She coughed lightly when done, then handed Alex back his flask.

"Sorry, I'm not usually this rude," she said, not looking apologetic at all, "it's just, they haven't been this bad for a long time… the nightmares I mean."

"Anyway, I'm Elisa", she extended her hand, which Alex briefly shook.

"Alex."

A slightly awkward silence fell, but then Alex remembered the reason he'd come here in the first place. He grabbed a seat on one of the two chairs positioned by her bedside table.

"Say, New Girl – "

"Elisa," she interrupted him once again.

"Right, Elisa. I heard you managed to summon quite a few Patronuses earlier?", he continued, trying, but failing, to sound unimpressed.

"Ah, so that's why you're here," understood Elisa, "you want to know how I did it."

"Naturally," Alex said, deciding not to lie and pretend there were any other motives.

"I'll tell you all about it, if you let me in on how you and your brother cursed and then cured my cousin."

"Your cousin? You'll have to be more specific than that," he replied coolly, "Liam and I've cursed quite a few people in our time."

"Julie Hastings ring a bell?"

"Ah, our dearest darlingest Head Girl told you all about our little encounter over the summer, then?" he sneered.

"Naturally. I gather she showed all symptoms of a venomous Acromentula bite", Elisa continued unfazed, "yet it couldn't be since her, ah … illness, was both caused and cured by one of your spells. I'd like to know the specifics in case you ever decide to have a go at me, or at my family again."

Alex chuckled, suddenly humoured by the girl's directness.

"I assure you I have no interest in offing you or your family. In your cousin's case, I was the one who cast the counter-curse, wasn't I? And in yours, I could've just come here and poisoned you with liquor, it seems," he said while nodding towards her hands, which had taken the flask from his again.

She laughed at this, the sound echoing eerily through the deserted Hospital Wing. Still no Pomfrey to be seen.

"Turns out that no, it isn't very different from Muggle whiskey."

"Lots of experience with that, have you?"

"None of it worth mentioning," Elisa waved her hand dismissively, "your unknown but frankly brilliant wand work however, now that is a topic worth my undivided attention."

"I'm not telling you shit until you spill your beans, Elisa dear."

She flinched a bit at his last words, but nevertheless replied reasonably pleasantly: "a never-ending stale-mate, then".

Leaning back against the bed's headboard, she started slowly massaging her temples with the tips of her fingers.

"Fuck, my head hurts," she said through gritted teeth.

"Well it should, seeing you face-planted on solid marble stairs earlier."

Elisa's perplexed expression told Alex what he'd already suspected. She had no recollection of falling at Winters's and his feet shortly after last period. He inwardly debated whether or not to tell her it was Alexa and he who brought her in, but quickly decided in favour. Sooner or later, she would find out anyway.

"What did you think you were here for?" he smirked.

So he lapsed into story-telling, she lapsed into silence, neither of them noticing the small, chipped hand mirror on the bedside table.

Maybe it was the Firewhiskey working its magic, maybe the fact that he had encountered a person who didn't get on his nerves within the first ten minutes of conversation, but Alex Greengrass found himself skipping a good party to spend the vast majority of his first Friday night back at Hogwarts in the company of Elisa Thompson. He stayed long after finishing telling her how she ended up in the Hospital Wing, the pair of them talking time away. He only left in the early hours of Saturday, when his legs had grown sore from sitting far too long and she jokingly threatened to Stupefy him if he wouldn't shut up and let her sleep her monstrous headache away.

Yes, like a particularly stubborn wizarding wine stain on his mother's favourite table linen, Elisabeth Thompson had appeared and made an unexpected dent in Alex's Friday night plans. But honestly, predictability is a right bore, and he'd always rather enjoyed watching his mother throw a fit over wizarding wine stains.

 _Lexi_

Funny things, mirrors. Showing you an infinite yet non-existent world of their own, identical in every way to yours.

Even funnier things, magical mirrors. Especially the one placed in the palm of Alexa Winters's hand at this very moment.

Lexi's currently violet eyed gaze was fixed intently upon the small thing with its worn out wooden edges. Not out of vanity, as the curious object did not reflect Lexi's ever-changing figure tucked away in one of Ravenclaw Tower's comfortable armchairs. No, connected to its twin temporarily residing on a bedside table in the Hospital Wing, it displayed an altogether different scene.

Elisabeth Thompson in the company of Alexander Greengrass.

For Lexi, the hand mirror was a means to keep an eye on the more interesting cases brought to the infirmary. In Alexa's not-so-humble opinion, Madame Pomfrey, though undoubtedly highly able in her heyday, was simply getting old. Patients suffering from simple maladies with straight-forward remedies were all the ancient matron could handle these days. The more curious cases however, Lexi liked to follow up on herself.

Thus she had spent hours and hours at Rose Weasley's bedside last June, low-key ensuring Pomfrey did not mess up Rose's fragile physical and mental health. Physically being present in the Hospital Wing however, had proven quite impractical for Lexi. Not only were there an awful lot of stairs between Ravenclaw Tower and the infirmary, she had been forced to socialize with Rose's visitors on multiple occasions. Pure horror that had been. Plus, Lexi did not particularly like to advertise her considerable contribution to the general health of Hogwarts's many inhabitants. On the contrary, she had a reputation to maintain, a black market to run. And volunteering in the Hospital Wing did not generally earn anyone a whole lot of street credit.

Luckily, the second-hand set of two way mirrors had offered sweet and simple relief. Place one on any bedside table in the infirmary, and keep an eye on grave or bizarre situations through the other.

Thompson practically cracking her skull after conjuring an abundance of Patronuses earlier that day most certainly qualified as bizarre, so the girl had earned a chipped two-way mirror on her bedside table. Thus, when Lexi had heard Thompson's distant whimpering, she'd immediately whipped out the mirror to check up on her, willing to head down and brave those wretched Hogwarts stairs if need be. To her utter astonishment however, Alex Greengrass of all bloody people had beaten her to shaking Elisa awake. And now, the pair of them were conversing like they'd known each other since before either of them could correctly pronounce 'Quidditch'.

Well wasn't Thompson a girl to keep an eye on, cracked skull and hospitalized or not.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 _Elisa_

The evening sun glistened softly through the tall hospital windows, bathing the majority of the wing in a warm orange-yellow glow. I audibly growled at the sight. Yet another reminder of my ridiculously long stay in this peaceful yet deathly boring part of Hogwarts castle. In the distance, I heard the great bell chime seven.

"Alright," I thought to myself determinedly, "that's it."

Swinging my legs over the edge of the cot I'd been occupying since last Friday night, I made for Pomfrey's cubicle-like office at the end of the row of beds. I couldn't stand another minute of staring at the gothic ceiling and walls, even if the bloody sun 'd be bathing them bright pink with rainbow-coloured hippogriffs.

"Madam?" I said, after a rapid knock on the old nurse's office door.

"Yes, child?" she replied, from behind a paperwork-scattered desk.

"I was wondering…" my voice faltered, suddenly at a loss of words.

"Come girl, spit it out. I haven't all day, have I?" she urged, waving her wand at a quill which started scribbling down on a piece of parchment feverishly.

"Well, I was wondering … when might I leave?"

She stared at me, her left eyebrow almost disappearing under her matron's cap as she raised it obliviously.

"It's been two days since I arrived here, and I'm feeling so much better. Not the slightest trace of a headache. And tomorrow is Monday, so I'd like to spend what's left of the weekend revising Potions in the library, if that's—"

"You were dismissed this morning, Miss Thompson", Pomfrey interrupted matter-of-factly.

Now it was my turn to stare.

"Err, no I wasn't…"

"Oh, it must've slipped my mind to do so, then. Yes, yes. The Lockhart Test results were quite satisfactory. Well, off you go now girl! Chop chop! But do stop by whenever you feel queasy or dizzy again!", she ushered me out.

I felt my legs carry me towards my cot, felt my hands pull on a sweater over my pyjamas and collect the few essentials Lucy had brought over from Ravenclaw tower, but my head couldn't quite catch up.

Had I … spent the entire day trying to entertain myself with Max's shrilly singing 'Get Well Soon Loser' card … in utter vain? I shook my head disbelievingly while I took one last look at the figure vaguely visible behind the tinted glass walls of the cubicle office before pushing the heavy double doors and making my way out of this realm of boredom.

It was then that I ran smack into none other than one and only Nose Job Girl.

Her eyes narrowed and flashed dangerously at the collision, so I expected either another dig at my, honestly non-existent, French accent or a nasty curse from her haughtily-set lips. I gripped my wand tighter in case she opted for the second very probable scenario.

"Thompson," she greeted, "Madam Pomfrey discharged you, I see."

Blessed with great observational skills, this one was.

"Thank you, Auror Obvious, for those very useful remarks. Now what is it you want?"

"Why, I came to visit you," she said indignantly.

Indignation, yes. But not a trace of hostility in her tone, not a trace of menace or ill-will. Very different from the hostile voice she'd used to provoke me in Friday's DADA class. If I didn't know better, I would've thought she sounded almost … friendly. Ha, as if…

"Why, so you could leave a lovely pot of Devil's Snare on my bedside table?"

The corners of her lips turned upwards at this.

"Not quite, Thompson, not quite."

She furrowed a little through her dragon hide designer bag, then pulled out a bright orange package decked in purple lettering.

"From the newest range of Skiving Snackboxes, hasn't even hit the shelves yet."

She proudly held it out to me, and I eyed it suspiciously, unsure of what to do, how to act.

"Consider it a peace-offering, Thompson. Merlin knows I can be a royal bitch at times, but I usually only pull shit on people who had it coming. And well, you didn't deserve the errr, … remarks I threw your way. I barely even know you, don't I? So I suppose this is me apologizing?"

Her voice went up at the last sentence, seemingly turning her statement into a question. Strangely enough, this made her entire little speech sound more genuine, making me want to believe her. I still hadn't taken the package from her perfectly manicured fingers though. A few nice words weren't going to erase a lifetime filled with security drills and hard core lessons of 'don't-take-any-sweets-from-strangers-Elisa'.

"Oh, for Salazar's sake," she rolled her eyes, "I'm going to set this thing right here on the floor. By all means, run all the Dark Arts detection spells you know. When you've realized this Snackbox is utterly harmless and you're thinking about possibly accepting my apology, come find me."

She set down the package, smiled and turned on her heel.

"You haven't told me your name," I called after her.

She stopped in her tracks to look at me incredulously, before laughing out loud when she realized I was dead serious.

"What's funny?" I couldn't help but slightly smile along.

"Nothing. It's just… I'm not used to people not knowing my name. But I suppose you genuinely don't, Frenchie. It's Lily, Lily Potter."

She laughed once more before sauntering off, her tell-tale flaming red hair which should've given her straight away bouncing with every step. Yeah, for a Ravenclaw and teen highly trained in lethal combat, it appeared I could be quite daft at times.

I looked back at the bright orange package that still sat in the middle of the hallway, wondering what to do with it. Despite her last name and seemingly genuine apology, I didn't trust Lily Nose Job. On the other hand, I did love the Unibrow Unicorns Julie and I had bought during our visit to Wizard Wheezes over the summer. Max had been forced to sort of braid his ultra-wild sparkly purple eyebrows out of his eyes for days, before aunt Tori couldn't stand it anymore and Jules and I finally gave him the half containing the remedy. Who knew which wonders this supposedly newest range contained?

"Elisa?" a voice interrupted my internal babbling, "what are you doing out of bed?"

Lucy Hollister appeared by my side, a platter filled with food and a bottle of pumpkin juice floating in front of her.

"And what are you doing staring at that WWW box like it might bite you any second?"

"Lily Potter gave it to me, to apologize" I answered slowly.

"Aha, so it might actually have a pair of fangs to bite off your head with," she immediately understood.

"I should probably Incendio the thing right away, but she said it's from the newest range. Hasn't even hit the shelves yet."

I turned to Lucy, expecting her to tell me the only right thing to do, was to blast the box to pieces and be done with it, before it could start chewing away at my ears or something similar. She didn't though.

"Have you had the Unibrow Unicorns?" I added, somewhat pleadingly.

"Sophie, my little sister, obsessed over them all summer," she grinned, understandingly.

"We could run some detective spells, Elisa, but I've been dying to test out this thing I've been working on?" she asked excitedly, looking at me as if asking for permission.

I wasn't exactly sure what she had planned, but who was I to deny the girl whose visits had been the only distraction for days whilst stuck in that wretched Hospital Wing? Well, her visits, my cousins', and a certain Alex Greengrass's on Friday night.

"What did you have in mind?" I quickly said to avoid grinning like a mad fan girl at the thought of that particular Slytherin.

"Accio sneakoscope three!" was her clear answer.

"I've been tinkering with some old Dark Arts detection devices I came across at a second-hand market. During the Wizarding Wars, there were tons of these things on the market, but since The Great and Most Noble HP saved us all from Voldy's reign and eternal doom, innovation and development concerning sneakoscopes has sort of stalled. Let's put it this way: wizarding peace has been a bitch for manufacturers of DA detection devices," she grinned.

"Consequently, the few sneakoscopes I've managed to put my hands on are outdated, their results comparable to trying to watch your favourite TV series on an 80s telly. Cute and vintage, but pixelated and highly unreliable. So I started taking them apart, then tried to combine their individual strengths into one single sneakoscope."

"And voila, my third prototype!" she concluded proudly, while a colourful object resembling a distorted disco ball with tiny planet rings orbiting around came flying down the marble stairs, then landed in her out-stretched hand.

My jaw dropped, utterly amazed.

"You mean to tell me, that you… made this?" I spluttered.

"Life at Hogwarts gets quite boring when your only sane dorm mate spends the majority of her free time flying around on a random piece of wood," she smiled nervously, "honestly Quidditch is so overrated."

"Lucy, it's brilliant. You're brilliant! How does it work?" I was close to clapping my hands together and jumping up and down in amazement, like an overly excited child on the morning of its Hogwarts letter.

"Just hold it over any object you're suspicious off," she said while holding it over the WWW box, "and give it a good counter-clockwise spin."

As she did so, the colourful sneakoscope started spinning in the air like a mad whirligig, making all sorts of mechanical beeping sounds.

"It'll tell you –"

"The exact content and components of the object…" I completed her in absolute awe, as that was what the sneakoscope was currently spelling out, letters and arrows appearing above Lily's package, hovering in the air like a neon hologram.

Bezoar, butterscotch, cinnamon, daisy stems, fairy wings, … On and on it went in alphabetical order, the exact percentages and ratios displayed as well.

"Doesn't seem as if Potter junior tampered with any of the ingredients, none of them are particularly poisonous. Now, let's see which kinds of magic this thing holds."

She gave the sneakoscope another spin, clockwise this time. It buzzed and beeped again, until the same hologram letters and arrows appeared, spelling out which spells the box had been subject to.

 _Anteoculatia, baubillious, densaugeo, furnunculus_ , … A plethora of spells associated with prank-pulling appeared, none of them especially dangerous or harmful.

"Looks like Lily doesn't plan on ending your life anytime soon, Elisa. This thing's safe, as far as Skiving Snackboxes go. You know, I heard she prevented the other Slytherins from proclaiming you an Unspeakable, she must've taken a liking to you or something."

"She prevented them from proclaiming me a Department of Mysteries worker?" I said confusedly.

"That is one meaning of the word Unspeakable," Lucy laughed, somewhat bitterly, "in the context of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's lovely student life however, it is a synonym for utter outcast. You make that list, and your life here is basically over. I remember Martina Bulstrode declaring her little sister an Unspeakable for being sorted into Hufflepuff a couple of years back. The next semester, the poor girl'd transferred to Beauxbatons out of sheer misery."

"So much for blood being thicker than water…" I mumbled.

I'd never imagined Hogwarts as pure treacle tart and pumpkin juice. I'd seen enough reruns of 'Skins' and 'Here come the witches, bitches' to know what a bunch of teens thrown together in school are like. But bullying your own sister to the point she is forced to flee the country? Breaking off entire friendships for something as insignificant as an argument about blood status, like Matt and Alex had done? Hadn't the last Wizarding Wars been fought out of prejudice and division? The world was meant to be smarter now, love and peace and understanding were supposed to rule.

"I think managing to stay off that blasted list calls for appropriate celebration, so let's take all this food outside," Lucy gestured towards the almost forgotten platter of food that was still floating in front of her, "and test out the new wonders the Weasleys came up with by the lake!"

An assortment of Fizzy Floats, Candid Caramels and Snazzy Jazzy Apple Drops kept us thoroughly entertained for the remainder of this warm September evening, as we alternated between hovering about 2 feet off the ground, temporarily falling victim to Tourette's, and tap-dancing our bloody feet off.

I could see why Weasley Wizard Wheezes flourished during the War, as no thoughts of Unspeakables, blood status arguments, my mother's insanity or the boredom in that wretched Hospital Wing entered my mind. WWW un-complicated things, reduced life to laughter, to a few moments of perhaps borrowed yet sacred simplicity.

Even if only for a summer's night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 _Elisa_

So I've come to the point where I've lost my already non-existent patience. It's absolutely gone, I tell you. With the wind, down the drain, up in flames. Because it's been a solid hour, for fuck's sake. Enough of this silent suffering.

"Hello?" my voice echoed eerily against the stone walls and marble steps.

"Anybody up _?"_ I tried again, louder this time.

No answer. Oh for Merlin's sake, it was almost 7.30 am by now, not that early.

"Please, help. Anyone? I'm stuck …. I'm stuck in the stairs!"

Shouting it out loud made it sound even more ridiculous.

 _I've been stuck in the stairs for over an hour._

I knew so for a fact, as I left Ravenclaw tower at 6.05, so I could start my daily morning exercises on the grounds outside precisely at 6.15. Somewhere around 6.11 however, dearest Hogwarts castle decided it couldn't quite handle students out of bed before the break of dawn.

 _So the Merlin-damn stairs swallowed my lower left leg_ _on the way down_.

And here I thought I was getting the hang of navigating through this magical labyrinth that calls itself a school. I was rubbing my eyes in utter frustration, when my trained ears suddenly picked up the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. I swivelled as best as possible, without breaking my leg that is, then jumped for joy when I recognized the lanky thirteen-year-old boy coming down. Well, figuratively speaking of course. Actually jumping wasn't in the cards for me at the moment.

"I thought I recognized your voice. Find yourself in a bit of a pickle, E?" he said mockingly, dressed in Quidditch gear, a broom casually swung over his shoulder.

"Maximillian Jeanine Hastings, I don't think I've ever been happier to see you!" I exclaimed, greeting my youngest cousin, relief flooding through my veins.

"Oi, don't go shouting about my middle name!" he answered, looking around as if to check no one else caught the name of our shared but long deceased grandmother.

"Whatever you say, Jeanine, just get me out of this death trap."

"Of course, Elisa dearest. You just, ah…, have to very kindly ask the stairs to release you."

"Ask the stairs?" I narrowed my eyes at Max, not trusting his suddenly sugary sweet tone.

"Beg the stairs, in fact", he replied smoothly.

"Beg the … . Alright then, I guess…"

I didn't quite trust the oddly solemn expression on Max's face, but how many alternatives did I have? Exactly. Naught. Besides, in a castle where you supposedly tickle a pear to gain access to the kitchens, staircases change directions ad hoc, and the Headmistress changes into a striped cat now and then, asking the stairs for permission to be released, doesn't sound as ridiculous as it does at first.

"Dear stairs," I started uncertainly, "this past hour has been a blast, truly. Nowhere I'd rather be. But will you please let go of me? We could do this again next week if you'd like, but for now let's part ways. Please let go. Please?"

Nothing. So I continued.

"I could sing 'Stairway to heaven' for you, would that help change your mind? My voice is rather disagreeable, as you'll unfortunately find. But it's a nice song, don't you think? Very appropriate, too."

At this point, Max completely lost it, bursting out laughing.

"I. Can't. Believe. You. Just. Begged. The. Stairs. To. Let. Go", he uttered each word between fits of hysterical laughter.

"Like. It. Has. _Feelings_. Or. Something" he howled on, clutching his broom for support.

Merlin, was I daft. The little bugger had me going, hadn't he?

"You're a right git, you know that Jeanine?" I spat, suppressing the urge to join in with Max's giggles.

"Alright, alright, you've had your laugh. Now please just _help_ me!"

Still hiccupping, he set aside his broomstick and grabbed me by my armpits, pulling forcibly. My left shin appeared from the depths of the marble step, which I'll be avoiding at all times from now on, thank you very much, and then my ankle and trainer followed. Aha, freedom at last!

"So I was heading out for an early flying session and practice for Quidditch try-outs, and I reckon you had some insane morning workouts planned as well," Max gestured towards my sporty outfit, "but what about skipping all that and having a humongous breakfast instead?" he then proposed, picking up his broom again.

"When it's not fooling me into talking to stairs, I like the way your brain works, Jeanine" I easily agreed, linking my arm with his, heading down but carefully skipping _that_ treacherous work of marble.

He wriggled free of course, then started belting the refrain from 'Stairway to heaven' while skipping down, only stopping when a couple of very annoyed portraits threatened to send for the school's resident poltergeist to wreak its havoc and make him shut up.

Off to a great start, today was.

 _Alex_

The air surrounding him was thick with the smell of years and years of owl droppings nobody'd ever bothered to clean up, but Alex barely noticed. Instead, he stood motionless by the window, watching Cassiopeia, the Greengrass family owl, grow into a tiny speck on the horizon, which the evening sun appropriately coloured blood red. To Cassie's left claw, Alex had tied a reply to the letter he'd received this morning at breakfast. The carefully sealed piece of parchment contained precisely two words.

' _Yes, father_ ', it read, and so it sealed Alex's post-Hogwarts fate.

He had always known he was to follow in Hector Greengrass's hefty footsteps, join the various family businesses and help enlarge the already massive century-old Greengrass emporium. However, Liam, Alex's brother, had always formed somewhat of a buffer when it came to his father's incessant and not so gentle pushes towards a future in Greengrass MLtd. Whilst Alex was of course expected to join, Liam, as the eldest Greengrass child, was first in line to replace Hector when the patriarch would eventually call it quits and retire from professional life. So after graduating last June, as expected of him, Liam had immediately started training and living the office life.

Soon however, Hector had found out what Alex had already known for years. Namely, that Liam was absolutely useless, in every aspect of the word, especially when it came to running a business successfully. His extremely limited economic knowledge and absolute lack of a nose for good deals had proven to be the least of problems. It was his incurable preference of rather violent wand use above diplomatic dialogue when it came to settling disputes that had proven an insurmountable nuisance for Greengrass Senior. Hence this morning's letter to his youngest.

" _Show you the ropes over Christmas …, Make sure to get O on your Arithmancy NEWT…, Don't disappoint me, son ..._ "

Though he had crumpled up and _Incendioed_ the letter the minute he had finished reading it, the words were branded on Alex's retina. Even more so was the message which had been written between the lines of his father's immaculate handwriting. Liam was to be moved to the other, non-official, branch of Greengrass MLtd, where they could use his brute strength and impulsive behaviour. Alex on the other hand, was to be groomed to match his father's slick perfection, to ultimately take his place as number one.

Cassiopeia had altogether disappeared from view, but still Alex was staring out of the window, his eyes now fixed on another figure, a tall and slender one he recognized even from this great distance.

Elisa Thompson was running laps around the Quidditch pitch.

He hadn't spoken to her since that night in the Hospital Wing, but of course he'd seen her around. This morning for example, when he'd decided to head down early for breakfast and had spotted her and Hastings junior seated at the Ravenclaw table, in a mostly deserted Great Hall.

Whilst Cassie had delivered the equivalent to life imprisonment from his father, owl post had brought Thompson something altogether different. Several parcels and packages wrapped in brown paper. Out had come hoodies, scarves, badges and tees, all sapphire blue and bronze, embroidered with the Ravenclaw emblem. She was wearing some of the merchandize now, it would seem, as the bronze was reflecting the last of today's rays of sun.

After what seemed like an eternity, he watched as her tiny figure finally left the Quidditch pitch, then ran straight into the Forbidden Forest.

"The fuck?!"

Was she completely bonkers? The Forest wasn't a place for students on the brightest of days, let alone near nightfall. Had she missed that memo at the welcoming feast?

"Thompson!" he cried, "Thompson, get back!"

To no avail of course. This high up, the owls were the only ones to hear him, and they hooted and flapped their wings indignantly at his choice of decibels in their sanctuary.

"C'mon _,_ " he muttered to himself, whilst gripping the edges of the medieval windowsill, half expecting Elisa to realize her mistake and re-emerge from the woods.

Alex cursed out loud when she didn't, then ran down the long stone stairs of the Owlery two steps at a time, heading for the one place at Hogwarts even he evaded at all costs.

 _Rose_

Figuring out the riddle the bronze knocker had thrown at her without thinking about it twice, Rose walked into the Ravenclaw common room rather hurriedly, pushing past some frightened-looking first years, then sprinted up the winding staircase leading towards her dormitory. Finding the circular room deserted, she threw down her bulging backpack on her bed, then stood watching it for a second, breathing heavily.

Her hands fumbled a bit, but zipping open the bag and consequently the pencil case it contained, Rose took out an exceptionally normal quill. She let it roll between her fingers, stroked its feathers, and held it up against the fading evening sunlight.

It was Scorpius's.

Even though she didn't spend her days in self-induced solitary confinement anymore but instead attended most of her classes, socializing and partaking in the meaningless chit chat her peers so eagerly engaged in, just seemed too _trivial_.

Meaning that, in a class such as Advanced Potions, which none of her many cousins was taking, she was utterly friendless.

" _Just take the bloody quill, Weasley, it's not going to bite off your fingers."_

Well, not entirely friendless. Scorpius was in Advanced Potions, had noticed she had somehow managed to bring Hugo's eternally spelling 'Chudley Cannons, Chud- Chud- Chudley Cannons', instead of one of her own Self-Inking quills.

 _"… it's not going to bite off your fingers_ ", accompanied by an eye roll and a signature smirk.

His voice resonated in her head, like that one broken Celestina Warbeck record her Gran could never grow tired of.

" _Take the bloody quill, Weasley,…_ "

It had sounded so normal, had rolled from his lips so naturally. Almost as if last June hadn't happened. As if they were still bickering back and forth in public, but snogging each other's brains out in private.

It _had_ happened, however. A quick glance down her blouse showed the permanent reminder. Pink scar tissue, covering her entire torso haphazardly. Rose let her fingers stroke the feather one last time. She then dropped it, pointed her wand before it could hit the dorm's floor.

" _Incendio._ "


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 _James_

"So you wear really tight and really tiny Speedo's, then?"

It was clear that Benjamin Flint, Appleby Arrows' soon-to-be-married star Chaser, had little to no clue as to what the Muggle and very leggy brunette could have possibly meant by that. So he did what he had been instructed to do by his fellow teammates, who had abducted him from his flat a couple of hours and several drinks ago. Say yes to everything tonight.

"Afffffirmative", he slurred.

"Very tight and very tiny", James nodded in agreement, while slinging his arm around Leggy's blonde friend, who was incidentally wearing a top with a neckline that plunged and plunged and plunged.

"Oh my god, I love water polo! You're like, my favourite team!" this girl squealed.

The fact that she hadn't noticed that not one of the dozen or so lads, who were in fact all Quidditch players posing as Muggle athletes in a posh Soho club, knew anything at all about water polo, told James otherwise.

Water polo. He snorted just thinking about the Muggle sport. Then his jaw tightened. Water polo. Water. Rose's blood colouring the Black Lake darker than ever before. His brother's body a motionless heap on the wooden jetty. The wild look in Parkinson's mad eyes.

"Round of Jägerbombs," he called out to the bartender, trying to shrug off the images.

A little over three months had passed since The Incident, and life had seemingly gone on. Rose was attending classes, Albus was back to his usual 'I'm more than just Dad's son'-antics, albeit slightly more restlessly than before, and James himself had started his last year at Hogwarts, although he hadn't spent much time at the school this first semester.

Unlike Albus, but much like Lily, James was a firm believer in playing the cards he'd been dealt in life to the fullest. The aces that were the Potter name and Weasley Quidditch talent had led James to many extraordinary things in his 17-year-old-existence, but most notably to eager Quidditch scouts and private try-out sessions. Over the summer, this had resulted in an offer from no less than three premier league teams, of which the Arrows' was by far the most lucrative. Hence, James had spent his time divided between attending only the bare minimum of NEWT classes, and practicing alongside his favourite Quidditch team of all time. Practice sessions which, incidentally, also included stag parties on regular Tuesday nights.

"And make Benny's here a double!" he yelled over the throbbing bass, tossing some Muggle notes on the counter.

Life was looking nothing but up for James Potter. Yet some nights he woke up covered in sweat, unable to move as if Petrified, the ghastly images of last June flashing before him.

James threw his head back to down his shot, then took the one from a protesting Leggy to empty it as well. The heat of the alcohol still burning in his throat, he clapped Benjamin on the back, then made for the crowd, wanting to feel the _thumb thumb thumb_ of the bass in his bones, not see the _flash flash flash_ of wretched memories.

The club not only looked like a jungle, with tangled vines dangling from the ceiling and the staff dressed as if on safari, it also felt like one. There were Isaac Locke and Scotty Harris, the team's two Beaters living up to their names, as the former was beating the latter on his chest with his fist for no apparent reason. The reserve Keeper, Jerome Ferry, was a bit further down the floor, arms up and eyes closed, moving along with the music smoother than an enchanted snake ever could. Other bodies, too, were moving together as if commanded by the drum-like beats, as the Tiki masks on the walls looked on with dooming eyes.

James moved with and between them for a bit, then drifted off from the main room to a smaller, adjacent cove-like space. Aquariums with exotic fish lined these walls, as the room was decked out like a smaller, but not necessarily less impressive, version of the lost city of Atlantis. The atmosphere was more relaxed here, the beats muffled as if truly underwater. Huge bubbles gently floated a little above the smaller crowd's heads, their colours changing from light blue to aqua maroon, to shimmering indigo and back again. James took in the room uneasily, again reminded of The Incident.

"Potter!" a voice hauled him out of his alcohol and atmosphere induced reverie.

James turned lazily, expecting to see one of his teammates. Instead, a dark-skinned girl looked him in the eye, a smirk plastered on her lips. She looked like she was a staff-member, with her white hair, her revealing light blue and shimmering gold outfit.

"Out in London on a school night," she shook her head playfully, pretend disapprovingly.

Yet there was something oddly familiar about her. Was it the way she had said his name? The somewhat mocking look on her dark face? Then it dawned on him.

"So this is where you run off to when you disappear off the Map, Winters" James said.

"The Map?" the one and only Alexa Winters immediately picked up.

James cursed his loose and quite drunk tongue internally.

"The grid, the grounds, …" he shrugged, trying to cover up his mistake, "Rose has been wondering where you disappear off to for years. Wouldn't have guessed it was something as un-exotic as a Muggle club, to be honest."

"Sorry to disappoint," she told him coolly, sarcastically, her violet eyes narrowing.

He shrugged, grinned, non-verbally telling her he couldn't care less.

"Let's just get some drinks, Winters. Do what I came here to do. Get piss drunk."

At this, she shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I'll do you one better, Potter," she said, then raised her left arm towards the bubbly ceiling.

The many golden bracelets around her forearm clattered against each other as she did so, moving just enough to reveal she had her wand somehow tied between the pieces of jewellery and her arm. James hardly believed Winters could exercise enough control over her wand like this, with so little grip and contact. But for Alexa, it apparently made do. An overly theatrical swing of her hand in the air and a non-verbal spell later, two of the giant bubbles that had been floating close to the dark ceiling lazily descended, to stop and float right above the duo's heads, which were rather close to each other, courtesy of the ever-moving and pushing crowd. Winters turned hers, chin up to the bubble closest to her, and then breathed in through her mouth deeply, as if taking a huge drag from a cig. Utterly fascinated, James watched as the bubble completely disappeared between her neon blue lips.

For several seconds, Winters merely stood there, her eyes closed. Then, an enormous smile appeared on her face. She opened her eyes, which looked a little brighter, a little more violet than before, then looked James straight into his. She raised a hand to his cheek, dragged her thumb against his jawline.

"Live a little," she whispered in his ear, her breath raising goose bumps on James's skin.

Then, noticing James's hesitation and distrust towards the bubble, she stepped away and added: "or not..."

Dropping her hand, she cocked her head and pierced his brown eyes with her turbulent purples, one last time. She turned on her heel and walked away from him, as the crowd seemed to part spontaneously and create a pathway solely for her.

James blinked, but she was gone already, swallowed up by the throng of people who had closed their secret passageway again. The second bubble, however, remained floating lazily just above his head, still shimmering and alternating between blue, aqua maroon, indigo.

"Fuck it," he said, his words drowning in the murmur and mixture of voices and beats.

Mimicking Winters, he turned his head upwards and inhaled. Resisting the urge to cough, he remained motionless, eyes closed for just an instant, waiting. Then he felt the narcotic bubble hit, hazy euphoria overtaking his mind with full force.

When he opened his eyes, everything moved in glorious slow motion. Vision blurred, the many colourful fish seemed to have left the confinement of their aquariums, and were now seemingly swimming between and through the bubbles, whose edges shone gold. Instead of unsettling like before, James found it absolutely enthralling. If he thought he had felt the music pump through his veins earlier, it had been nothing compared to this. It was part of him now, just like the room, the crowd, the …

His diluted eyes landed on Winters again. She had made her way down the room and was now seated on nothing short of a golden throne, which was sitting on a little platform above the crowd. She smiled at him, almost cat-like, as it reminded him of a certain Cheshire feline in one of the Muggle children's stories his aunt used to read to him. James knew precisely what that smile meant.

"This night, this world even. It belongs to us, and we belong to them."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 16**

 _Alex_

People generally fit into one of three categories.

The important.

Bound to Alex mostly by blood. As idiotic, erratic, or dominant, in that respective order, his brother, mother and father might be, Alex still cared for them. And even though his father and aunt hadn't been on speaking terms for multiple years on end now, Scorpius and his parents still held a place in this very small first category, whether they knew and appreciated it or not.

Then, the useful.

Where the Notts and the rest of his Snake minions resided. Useful for their company, and for the benefit of Alex's entertainment, or now and then for the sheer man power their numbers represented. Hogwarts was a boarding school, after all.

Winters, and at times even Sluggy, also inhabited this middle group. The Metamorphmagus obviously for her rather exhaustive black market, the fossil that was Head of Slytherin House because of his widespread wizarding connections and, not unimportantly, as an easily influenced member of the school staff.

Alex called those who belonged here 'friends' for purely pragmatic reasons, as he had no desire whatsoever to ever speak to any of them after graduation come June.

Lastly, there were those who were neither useful enough to enjoy his civility, nor important enough to fall under his protection. And of course this last category consisted of the vast majority of people Alex had ever happened to cross paths with.

The utterly irrelevant.

Occasionally, a person or two had switched groups through the years. Matt, for example, had been moved from the first to the last, with Alex's father's compliments. And when he first heard Marissa's nasal voice tell the, by now almost legendary, story of Elisa conjuring a dozen different Patronuses, he had hoped Thompson would spill her magical beans, and thus unknowingly move herself from the last to the second category rather swiftly.

She, of course, hadn't given in. Though, she could still. Elisa Thompson could become useful.

That was what Alex told himself when he raced into the one place even he avoided at all costs.

As soon as he crossed from the school grounds into the Forbidden Forest, he felt the hairs on his arms rise. He hated the damned place with a fervour which would even impress his mostly by hatred and disgust driven mother. Breathing heavily, his eyes scanned the immediate vicinity, hoping he would spot Thompson, so they could leave this instant. In vain, of course. He was surrounded by nothing but mossy greens and browns, and the occasional rocky grey.

"Thompson!" he whisper-called to no avail, feeling more frantic by the second.

Alex had heard the stories. Acromantulas lurked here. Giants, too. And Salazar knew what else that enormous loaf going by the frankly idiotic name and title of Hagrid the Gamekeeper had brought in.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, banning the stress from his body, forcing himself to think.

" _Homenum revelio_ ", Alex then cast, taking out his wand and regaining his wits.

A grand total of 4 human presences in the Forest. People were bonkers for coming here of their own accord and free will. 3 measly Hufflepuffs chilling by a lake further to the East. As far as Alex was concerned, they had dug their own grave by entering this Merlin forsaken place. A lost cause he couldn't and wouldn't be bothered with. There was only one reason, or rather one person, he was here for.

Elisa Thompson's presence was indicated to be in a clearing a bit further up North. Still alive, for now. Thus Alex begrudgingly set sail, wand at the ready, prepared to strike down anyone and anything that came at him.

It thankfully didn't come to that, as after some ten minutes of trudging deeper into the dark woods than he'd ever ventured before, pushing branches aside and hopping over some shallow puddles, Alex finally stepped into the clearing. The sun had set by now, and the night had well and truly fallen, so at first he didn't quite comprehend the moonlit scene before him. In fact, it confused him profusely.

Thompson was standing in the middle of some sort of rock formation. Her head lifted to the night sky, her wand out. Stock still, and… blindfolded?

Then, without any apparent incitement, dozens of arrows came flying out of the woods, their razor-sharp tips all aimed at Thompson's figure. But before they could come and rain down on her lean frame and the rocks on which she was standing, she set them all on fire with a flick of her wand, their ashes dwindling down and softly hitting the pine covered earth.

Alex had barely blinked, let alone fully registered the foregoing events, yet Elisa was already on the move again. Blindfolded still, she somersaulted off the rocks, landing in a crouch among the arrows' ashes. Not a second too late either, as the rock formation had started to tremble and transfigure. Its grey mass assembling to form the image of a creature Alex had read a multitude of books on, but had never had the displeasure of meeting in the rocky flesh.

Kerberos, the Hound of Hades.

Or at least, the three headed dog's stony and angular miniature sibling. Kerberos Jr's three sets of teeth were all bared, and growls and snarls escaped its fuming nostrils, alarming Elisa of its threatening presence.

Crouched where she landed still, Elisa scooped up a handful of dirt from the ground, flinging it at the boulder-menace. Its six eyes temporarily blinded, the hound howled in pain, now completely giving up its exact location.

" _Reducto_!" Thompson cried, aiming for the source of the dreadful howling, and effectively blasting the creature to smithereens, eliminating its threat.

Meanwhile however, sturdy green tendrils had started snaking up and around Elisa's long legs. Halfway up her thighs already, the unyielding tentacles caused Thompson to lose her balance, and she hit the pine-covered ground with a soft thud. More tendrils immediately shot from the earth, curling around Thompson's torso.

Elisa grunted, as the air was squeezed from her lungs. Still, she managed to pad the tentacles covering her belly with her left hand, which had thus far remained free. Feeling the plant's texture, she shot pure sunlight from her wand. The aggressive tendrils shrivelled and shrunk back in the earth in its brightness, releasing its prey, who greedily gulped for breath.

Alex, at last shaking off his dumbfounded state, staggered backwards trying to shield his eyes from the sudden white light emanating from Thompson's wand. In doing so, he stepped on a miniscule twig, which drily snapped under his weight.

The sound immediately alerted Elisa, who rolled over and sprang to her feet, while simultaneously hitting Alex with a silent curse.

His arms snapped to his sides, his legs together, and Alex toppled to the earth, his head narrowly missing a pine tree, with what could only be a Full Body-Bind.

"Enough," a deep voice boomed.

Alex hadn't the foggiest to whom the bass belonged, and he had no way of telling either, as the only thing his eyes could see from his frozen position between bird faeces and whatnot, was the starlit sky through the pine trees. Luckily, Thompson's curse had hit him whilst he had his wand out. Thus Alex muttered the counter-curse through gritted teeth, regaining control over his previously Bound limbs, and wonkily pulled himself back up with the help of a conveniently located branch.

"Too slow on the Devil's Snare, young Ms. Thompson," the same voice continued.

Three Centaurs were lined up at the opposite edge of the clearing, bows slung over their human-like shoulders, menacingly dragging their hooves across the dirt.

It had taken a dozen arrows wheezing through the air, Kerberos Jr, and a nasty case of Devil's Snare, but Alex finally regained his wits.

"Thompson, run!" he yelled, raising his wand and aiming at the three beasts which could attack at any moment.

"Oh shut up, will you?" was Elisa's agitated answer.

With a swift Expelliarmus, Alex's wand was pulled from his grip, and went flying just to land in Thompson's outstretched hand.

"The next time you raise your wand at a Centaur, boy, will be the last," the middle Centaur boomed threateningly, eyes fixed on Alex.

The Centaur to his left, however, turned to Elisa.

"You failed to discern the boy's presence for too long" he said calmly.

"Or perhaps," the middle Centaur interrupted venomously, "you knew all along, and you led him here."

"Right," Elisa sighed, rolling her shoulders and neck, suddenly feeling exhausted, "and why, pray tell, would I feel the need to lead a Greengrass into the Forest, Maximus?"

Maximus The Middle Centaur narrowed his beastly eyes even further, but before he could retaliate, the last Centaur spoke.

"Greengrass," the Centaur curiously said in a musical voice, and Alex suddenly realized he was a she, thus a Centauress.

"You have a role to play," she continued mystically, and then added, as if that explained it all "Orion shines brightly."

"And there's no need to show off whilst leaping of a rock formation. Your gymnastics, whilst impressive, were uncalled for," the first Centaur continued his feedback, seemingly unfazed by Orion and his apparent brilliance. "We shall continue your training two nights from now, Miss Thompson, now lead the Greengrass boy back to the castle."

"Thank you, Perimedes," Thompson addressed formally, then turned to the other two Centaurs and nodded in goodbye with a swift "Maximus, Siena."

Thompson then seized Alex's arm, and stomped off in the direction of the castle, not releasing until Alex shook her off and grabbed his wand back when they were well out of sight of the three beasts.

"What the actual fuck?" Alex uttered, when they had finally made it back to the bliss that was the familiarity of the castle's grounds.

"I see eloquence is one of your many virtues," Elisa said, not slowing down her pace, but with a light smile on her lips which created the smallest of dimples.

"Why are a band of bloody Centaurs _training_ you?" Alex said, feeling more like himself with every step he took towards the castle.

"Which curse did your brother use on my cousin?" she fired back.

Unbelievable. She was going to play that game again? After he essentially risked his life and limbs for her?

"Thompson, are you really not going to tell me why you were fighting a miniature Kerberos in the Forbidden Forest?"

"It's Elisa," she corrected, "and why would I tell you anything? I barely even know you."

"I ran into the Forest, just to get _you_ out!" Alex exclaimed indignantly.

"Right, how did you know how to find me?"

"Spotted you all the way from the Owl Tower, thought you were in some sort of trouble and -"

"And needed saving?" she interrupted, coming to a halt in front of the castle's heavy wooden entrance doors.

She burst out laughing at this, as if the notion alone was too ridiculous for words. Alex had to admit it was rather infectious, and felt his anger dissolve into gratitude they both got out of the woods alive.

"That sounds a little stalker-ish, and more than a little cliché," she grinned.

"Alright, that settles it. You most certainly need saving. From yourself. You're utterly mental."

She laughed even harder at this, shook her head and Alohomora'd the by now closed entrance doors. She paused shortly before walking through however, effectively blocking Alex from going in, too.

"There are only 2 things I need from you, Alex," she said.

Alex chewed on the inside of his cheek, ready to deflect any questions concerning Liam's attack on Thompson's cousin.

Elisa was right.

They did not know each other in the slightest. So why would either of them reveal their respective secrets to one another? She clearly was not planning on enlightening him on her obscure Centaur-friendly pass-times in the Forest, or exposing the details concerning the by now Hogwarts-famous Patronus incident. Alex, in turn, had absolutely no intentions whatsoever of advertising the Greengrass brothers' highly illegal spell-inventing skills.

Elisa, however, unexpectedly did not ask about Arachnid's Curse again.

"First and foremost, you cannot tell anyone about what you saw in the Forest tonight. The Centaurs like to have as little to do with wizardkind as possible, and they were very hesitant to train me to begin with. Let's put it this way, they'll be anything but amused if a horde of students will start trespassing on their territory asking for a private DADA tutor."

So the Centaurs _were_ , in fact, training Thompson. But to which purpose? Judging from what he'd witnessed earlier, it was safe to say Elisa's DADA skills equalled the average auror's, to say the least. How good was she training to get? No use in asking her, of course, as they'd already established their respective trust levels weren't putting either of them in a sharing mood.

"What about Orion?" he instead asked sarcastically, not really expecting a clear cut answer anymore "and the role I am to play?"

"Siena, ever the fan of theatrics," Thompson mimicked his mock-serious tone.

"Alright, no one will hear about your beastly escapades from me," Alex conceded, "now about the second thing you said you needed?"

"Yes," Elisa grinned, whilst finally entering the castle, "show me to the kitchens so we can get some pudding."

Pagina **8** van **8**


End file.
